


The Devil Inside Him

by SonicoSenpai



Series: Dark and Triggering Shit [6]
Category: Lamento -BEYOND THE VOID-
Genre: Abuse, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Broken Heart, Caning, Demons, Devils, Discipline, Forced Eye Contact, Forced Masturbation, Heavy Angst, How to become a demon, Lullabies, M/M, Magic, Master/Slave, Memory Alteration, Mind Games, Mind fuckery, Non-Consensual, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Groping, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Consensual Touching, Non-consensual TPE, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Original Universe, Porn With Plot, Spooky Sex, Stockholm Syndrome, Total Power Exchange, Training, Violence, bad BDSM practices, pleasure and pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2019-10-22 08:58:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17659754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonicoSenpai/pseuds/SonicoSenpai
Summary: This story takes place in the original LBTV universe after Rai's bad ending. If you haven't played the game and you plan to, please beware that this contains major spoilers.I'll update tags as necessary, but please beware.Characters belong to N+C.





	1. A New Place to Call Home

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Devil Inside Spotify Playlist](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/482674) by Various. 



> I just added a lengthy Spotify playlist for your listening pleasure. I've found these songs "look the same color" as this fic.

Cold as ice.

Darker than black.

Empty.

That describes my cell. It’s a reflection of my heart—a perfect mirror image. I’ve been given time to “rest and recover” before we continue our battle.

Exhaustion covers me from the tips of my ears to the hooked tip of my tail, and my arms and legs are numb. Fulfilling my promise—it’s my only task. When Rai is no longer Rai, then I promised to settle the matter with my own hands.

I wonder—just briefly—if the world has been taken over by the Void yet. I failed to stop Leaks. I became filled with despair and utterly devastated when I found out my true identity. My heart cried out in pain—for help—and like an angel, Rai answered me. 

But when the silver cat appeared, he had changed. Leaks said this new transformation reflects his true nature and his desires, yet he had returned for me—to collect me, urging me to fulfill the promise I made to him as his Sanga. I can’t deny it anymore— _I love Rai_. I would do _anything_ for him, and it was that feeling that called my soul back from the brink of death into this hopeless despair.

This creature—this devil version of Rai—stole me away from the world I know and brought me here. I don’t know how long we were fighting, but this is the first chance of rest I have been offered. I don’t know how I managed to hang on for so long against a devil—except for those strange powers of his. I smell the acrid scent of fresh blood on the floor—perhaps it’s coming from me. A shudder rushes through my body when I remember the tender touch of that claw inside the wound on my back. Firi—Leaks’ Sanga—stabbed me while I was overcome with sorrow, grief, and confusion. I didn’t bother to defend myself, because really, what am I? Who am I? I’m _nothing_ —just a copy. The parts of the evil sorcerer even  _he_ didn't want.

The demon did something to my body while healing me, making me different from what I was but still able to feel everything—and that gave me the power to fight him for as long as I did. But when those fingers invaded my wound, it burned and froze my heart. Something _more_ flows in my veins now. My fur fluffs up when I remember that dark and vivid bloodlust. It felt the same as when the light in Rai’s eye would darken and a thin smile appeared on his face during battle.

I was brought here—away from the curse, away from Sisa, away from Leaks. The demon fought me, that harsh, joyful feeling flooding from his body and into my heart—but I _know_ Rai. He has been going easy on me. He could have killed me if he wanted, and he didn’t. After finally disarming me, the devil approached and picked my body off the ground, firmly pinning my drawn claws behind my back. He said it was time for me to rest, and he carried me gently to this cell. On the way, I noticed his scent is the same as it was when he was a cat. And having my nose flooded with that powerful and strong scent reminded of the gentle loving caresses from last night—or longer. I don't know how long we have been fighting. But the nostalgic scent tore up my heart.

I am not _fighting_. I am simply trying to fulfill my promise. I’m afraid I’m too late, though—I don’t know how to defeat Rai in _my_ world, much less a devil version of him in his own, in which he rules over everything. But it is my promise, and I will never run from it. He is my responsibility. I’ve been left alone in here—for perhaps an hour, but it’s hard to tell time in this place devoid of light. The cell reminds me of where I was imprisoned when Leaks possessed my body. Except—I think this is real. And the person causing this suffering... I _love_ him.

A small sob escapes my mouth, and fresh tears brim in my eyes, my heart fills with grief. Losing Rai—it's worse than losing the entire world of Sisa, according to my feelings!

He didn’t speak much except to say he would return for me. I’ve wept from the despair and exhaustion, and I thought my tears had run dry. I don’t cry for the world of Sisa that I failed to save. I cried for my precious Touga—the one who protected me, the one who guided me and made me into the Sanga I am now, making me always look ahead rather than to the past, for fear of drowning in my sorrows. Does _anything_ —any part at all—of my Touga remain in that creature?

An utterly brutal aura surrounds him now—and not only because his form has changed. It’s because _this_ is what he desired—and yet... he _remembered_ me. Why did he come for me? It seems I would have been better off left to die. Is it only to inflict suffering? I can’t believe it. I don’t want to believe it. 

But he had words for me—that he wouldn’t let me die from a wound like that, that he would teach me even greater joy, and suffering. I can still feel the sound of his beastlike voice—no longer dignified and rational—rattling in my ears, ruffling my fur. I’ve heard him sound like that before—only a few times: when he took me in his arms the night before he confronted Leaks, the time at the brothel during mating season, and that time by the river after the festival, with the incense. He sounds almost indulgent.

Because of that... that _voice_ —I am finding it very hard to fulfill my promise. I tried my best at first, but it felt like he was only playing with me. And now, he is having me rest. Why? I don’t understand. If there is really nothing of the silver cat left inside this devil, why did he take me? And why show me this kindness? Is this kindness? If it is, then perhaps there _is_ a part of this devil that is still _my_ Rai.

If it isn’t kindness, what is it?

I curl up on the floor, making myself as small as possible. Wrapping my tail around my body makes me feel more secure. I’m too exhausted to groom, though I’m a mess. I should bathe and treat my wounds—I’m covered with nicks and scratches and small injuries from the devil’s sword, dagger, and claws.

He may have lent me some power—at first, it made me feel _more_ than alive, _more_ than Ribika—but my form has not changed, at least, not that I can tell. It’s so dark in here that I can’t see my own hand in front of my face, so perhaps my body is changing and I don’t realize.

The thought frightens me, so I pull my tail in front of my body—and it feels the same. Still covered in plush fur, slightly matted, and it’s warm. It still has the kink at the end. I check my ears as well—and I still have them, covered with the same fur. No horns are growing out of my head. 

As I am doing this quick exam, the aura in the room shifts to something heavy—subtly. I perk up my ears, twitching every which way to find a source—is he back? Will he expect me to fight more? I can't—I don't want to. _Please_. 

“Have you recovered, Konoe?” 

Hearing my name in that voice—slightly raspy and very husky—sends a shiver down my spine. He’s only called me by name a few times. The first time was when we had freely connected our bodies—he called out my name, telling me not to hide from him, to surrender everything to him. I did so—readily—despite my embarrassment. Hearing him speak my name so softly now makes my chest ache.

I don’t reply, but I look up in the direction of the voice, perking up my ears. The slightly metallic sound of creaking hinges makes my body shiver, and I hear soft footsteps approach. 

“Come.”

I don’t move. He’s an imposter! This is _not_ my Rai—and whoever this is, I feel I must defy him. I feel around for my sword and it’s nowhere to be found. 

“I took it.”

My fur ruffles out in surprise. I still can’t see him—it’s so dark—yet he knew what I was doing.

“You are my Sanga. Come with me, Konoe.” He is even closer than before, and I heard no additional steps indicating his approach. Can he float? Froud was able to float across the ground.

His voice makes me tremble, and I am afraid. I am frozen in place, unable to move. I hear a soft chuckle and my body is suddenly lifted from the ground—not roughly, as I expect, but almost tenderly.

Being held against this chest—it’s familiar and heartbreaking—it makes me suffer. Fresh tears spill down my face when I bury my nose in his hair—and it’s so _nice_! His scent is definitely the same—his arms feel the same. A tender touch against the back of my head pushes me in closer, and he starts to walk.

Despite my paralyzing fear, I allow my body to relax in his arms and I don't fight him. I can't. I feel weightless when he carries me down a long, pitch black hallway. It isn’t just dark—it seems to absorb all the light.

The devil pushes open a door, and we enter another room. I’m placed on the floor, and something soft and furry is under my body. It’s also quite dark, but here there seems to be a tiny bit more light, and soon enough I can make out the outline of a few things. It looks like a bedroom. 

A _bedroom_?

“Perhaps you might relax in here and recover—and you might share some of your warmth.”

My _warmth_? Gods, he can’t mean—

“Kneel.”

I don’t _want_ to obey that voice! I want my silver cat back! I would follow _him_  into the depths of hell—and I wonder if that is where I am right now—but I want him _back_. When I don’t immediately obey, something pinches my ear—hard—making me yelp in pain.

“Kneel.” The voice repeats, even and calm.

I climb up to my knees just to get him to let go of my ear. The pain makes tears burn in my eyes.

“You are my Sanga, Konoe. And here, you belong to me. I saved you from the dying world and from your despair—to teach you a new kind of joy. But I want to be clear,” the voice approaches my ear and I feel his lips touching my fur. “You are _mine_. You will obey me.”

Instinctively, my fur bristles and I bare fangs. But I do not snap at him. My neck is stroked gently for a moment, sending soft shudders down my shoulders, drawing a few more tears from my eyes.

“Please—I don’t want you to touch me,” I murmur. It’s too hard to feel those familiar hands touching me, especially not when I know this person _isn’t_ the cat I love. 

“Do not lie to me,” the low voice rumbles in my ear—shaking me to the depths of my being. 

“I’m n-not—!”

My chin is roughly grabbed, and my neck craned upward into an awkward, uncomfortable position, making another pained sound come out of my lips. The darkness lifts slightly and my gaze lands on the devil who used to be my precious Touga. It’s painful to see him like this—his left eye is gone now, too—a pitiful looking scar in its place, not a trace of that pale ice blue gaze is left. But—can he _see_ me? It feels like I’m being examined, my eyes the windows that peer into the tangled emotions of my heart. But if he doesn’t have vision, how can that be?

“You will learn to be more honest with yourself, my little Sanga.” The corners of the devil’s mouth are curled up, and his words are laced with anticipation. “It is my desire for you. To see you truly joyful.”

The other hand skates down my neck, tracing my throat gently—a shiver rushes through my body when I remember his mouth kissing and nipping me there. When the shiver rushes through me, the devil before me smiles a little wider.

“You are remembering. Perhaps...” I feel claws gently scraping my neck and my throat, all the way from the front to the back. He could tear it out or bite me—like he did in the cave by Mirror Lake. I am well aware that he could kill me if he wanted. I almost wish he would!

When his claws reach the front of my neck, a heavy weight suddenly appears, and I gasp in surprise. I bring both my hands up to my neck—and a thick metal collar has appeared there. It has a loop on the outside, at least one—but no hinges, no lock, no opening. I begin to feel very trapped and very afraid.

In the same manner, my chin is released and my wrist is gently grabbed. I don’t think to struggle—I don’t have time to even resist, really. His claws trace around my wrist and clank! I hear another metallic sound. While I am looking at the wide, black metal cuff around my wrist, my left hand is taken and treated the same way.

I look up questioningly. _Why_?

“It will smooth the transition, I think.” His tone is almost purring—almost loving, and I feel him tilt his face closer to me. “Like in the brothel? Do you remember?” His voice is breathy and soft, tender, his claws run through the fur on my ears and in my hair.

Smooth _what_ transition? I consider the words carefully. Transition to what? Does he mean _my_ transition?

Another bright metallic sound makes my ears twitch. He’s connected something to my collar, and it feels an awful lot like a leash. He gives it a sharp tug, encouraging me to stand.

“Let’s tend to your wounds.”

I feel resistance flood my body, mixing with my fear and anxiety, but I’m pulled over to the bed. Before I realize what is happening, my cloak is pulled from my body, along with my shirt, which is pulled off overhead. The air is frigid in here—and I shiver violently—and I’m met with the demon’s face up close. He smiles again—it’s _not_ the right expression for my silver cat! It feels all wrong!

“I’ll warm you up soon enough.”

“Uwaa!” A panicked sound escapes my lips when I’m pushed back against the bed, lifted onto the mattress—and the fabric behind me feels slippery, softer than silk, even. My boots are roughly pulled from my feet and my pants and underclothing are stripped off. Being exposed so suddenly makes me flinch, and I turn over. Claws delicately trace down my back, making my fur ruffle.

The wound on my back is still throbbing—and now, I’ve exposed it. A powerful weight rests on the back of my legs and thighs, pinning me in place, and I am truly afraid.

“Konoe. Look.”

He strips off my gauntlets, and the markings from the curse are gone. There is nothing there that looks like a tattoo—just my skin, which seems to glow in the pale light. What? My tail lashes and I bring it up in front of me to stare at it in the dim light. I can see the white fur below the hooked tip of my tail. Where is my black fur? What has happened to the curse?

Does he... still carry the mark of the curse on his chest?

“Wh-what—?” I stammer, but I want to wiggle free from the weight of this body above me.

My ears are licked—soundly, roughly, but passionately—and _that_ feels like _my_ Rai. My heart leaps in my chest—is he still in there? I hear a deep rumbling purr behind my body, and I feel like I’m melting.

“Such a childish color—so fitting for you, for your innocence.”

He changed me back! Did he break the curse? Or is Leaks dead? Leaks—did his curse destroy the world?

“Don’t think of unnecessary things,” the voice behind me purrs. His hands are now tracing all around the wound in my back, where I was stabbed, and my anxiety starts to rise. My heart beats faster, throbbing in my ears, my fur bristles, and my claws draw. 

“Please—don’t...” I whisper, tears spilling over. 

But I’m too late—his finger slips back inside the wound, stirring it around almost lovingly, but it makes me cry out in pain.

“Please! Rai, if there is anything of you left in there— _please_ —have mercy!”

“Anything _left_?” the voice growls. He sounds almost offended, but his hands stop for a moment. “I _am_ Rai—I am the manifestation of my purest form: my desires. And I am... tending to you. Relax.”

The way he says “relax” brings me back to the night before we confronted Leaks—and a shiver courses through me again, a sigh escaping my mouth.

Then, plush lips brush against my back—lips and a tongue—and they also feel exactly the same as Rai’s. I’ve felt him do this to me before, also that night, after telling me to sleep. He groomed me from my ears to my tail and everywhere in between—I mean, _everywhere_. And this touch feels the same. I start to relax and my mind begins to wander. 

Maybe this is all a dream? Maybe I haven’t yet woken after our night of pleasure, and he is still grooming me.

But—is he licking my blood? When his fingers touch my wounds, they burn—and I can’t help crying out—but he soothes me right away, as though kissing away my pain—growling low like he is consuming it. He licks at the wounds on my shoulders and arms as well, and I hear that beastly growl again. It makes my fur shiver. 

My tail is grabbed—hard enough to make me flinch—but my fur fluffs out beneath the touch of his fingers. This... this can’t be happening. I can’t do this—with him. As he is now—a demon masquerading with the face of my Touga.

“Please—don’t!” I try to plead, but my efforts aren’t successful. In fact, if anything, he seems to be getting worked up.

“Be honest with your desires, kitten. I can feel them. Clearly.” 

My ear is licked again, his tongue diving deep into the soft downy fur inside, and I quiver. His hands are caressing me—languidly meandering down my back, my sides, my waist, my ass, my tail. The way he touches me—it doesn’t feel controlling, but more as though he is dragging something out of me—something deep inside. Is it lust? Is it desire? Is it despair?

I realize I _can’t_ do this—I _won’t_ do this—I won’t be touched so tenderly by whatever this thing is—because it is _not_ Rai. I draw my claws and bare my fangs, the purr leaking from my throat lowering to a growl.

“Don’t _touch_ me like that! Don’t touch me at _all_!” My voice is low and I mean what I say. I struggle to try to turn onto my side, and I swipe my drawn claws against his face, but my attempts at resistance fail. My wrists are easily captured, pulled up over my head, and I hear a metallic sound close to my ear—clink, clink. Then, my arms are suddenly pulled hard—out to the sides in addition to overhead—making me grunt in pain.

“It is for you to submit.”

Now that I’m attached to the bed, trapped on my stomach, his hands crawl down my sides to my hips, creeping around to the front of my body. A violent shiver courses through me, and I gasp. Is it fear? Terror? Or desire? I do long for this touch. 

“Please!” I beg—it feels like I’m going into a panic, or like I’m going to lose my mind—but I want this. I was not going to allow myself to be fooled or tempted—but it’s too late.

The devil’s weight moves down lower, against my knees, and I feel him kissing and licking my lower back and tail. He is tasting me, exploring the peaks and valleys and the subtle curve in my back and waist, and his tongue licks lower—dipping toward the base of my tail. The touch makes me shiver, and one hand wraps around underneath my body, tenderly palming my shamefully excited cock.

His other hand plays with my tail, firmly tugging it at the base, which sends unimaginable pleasure through my spine—but what is most distracting is what he is doing with his mouth and tongue. He huffs on my entrance, making my fur stand up—and guilt pours through my body because of how much he feels like my Touga, and I remember how he touched me before.

“Please stop,” I beg, my voice unable to hide my tears. “I don’t _want_ this!”

“I believe I told you to be more honest with yourself, little Sanga,” he says from right behind me, and I feel his tongue circling outside my entrance, just underneath my tail. I arch my back, expecting an ice cold touch—but he doesn’t feel cold. He feels warm—and he feels like Rai!

A loud sob escapes my mouth when his tongue presses inside me. It doesn’t hurt—in fact, with the way he is playing with my body, caressing my cock using my own fluids, it feels amazing, and it makes me melt. I soon lose my resistance, but I don’t stop—I can’t stop—my tears.

“Please,” I beg again.

“You have such a lovely voice. I want to hear you more.”

Knowing that makes me purse my lips, trying to prevent any other sobs or pleas from escaping—but he is enticing me, riling my body up, and a finger slips inside me alongside his tongue. A moan spills from my mouth, and something thumps on the bed next to me. I open my eyes, and at first, I jump in surprise and fear. It’s a snake! But then—I remember—no, this is his tail now. All that beautiful white fur is gone. Sleek and black, it still moves like a cat’s tail—but it only serves to remind me that this is _not_ my cat’s tail.

“ _Please_! Ah! Why are you doing this to me?” I burst out, unable to contain my voice. “What do you want from me? _Please_!”

“You loved me. You _love_ me. You accepted me—when you kissed my eye, after.” One of his hands disappears for a moment, and I feel some shuffling behind me.

The fur on my ears stands up. I did kiss him. I removed his eyepatch and kissed that wounded eye, his scar. I wanted him to know that I care about him—I _love_ him—all of him, even the parts of himself that he doesn’t accept, I did and found precious, and this... creature remembers it. 

“I want your warmth. Go ahead and be scared. It’s a good thing to be cautious.”

He has two fingers inside me, scissoring then apart, and him telling me to be afraid right now really is terrifying.

“Please!” I beg.

“You can plead with me, beg me, all you like. I understand now—I understand why those devils wanted you. But they will never have you. You are _mine_.”

He seems to know just how to touch me to make me feel it and respond the most, and my hips thrust back into his hand—I’m not resisting him anymore. I can’t resist, but my body still quivers in terror.

“I can taste the fear—in your sweat—and it’s delicious. I want it _all_. I want all of _you_.”

He moves suddenly and I hear clothes rustling, I try to struggle, but I can’t escape. My lower body is pushed forward, bringing me up to my knees, and I feel him pressing at my entrance, spreading me apart—and then I realize it hasn’t even been a full day. The moment the head of his cock pushes inside, I can feel the pain from last night—and I scream out loud, feeling like my body is splitting in half.

He growls low—that beast-like sound—I heard it when he attacked me yesterday, too, pushed me down on the bed and scratched me—and in the cave, when he bit my neck—and my body pulses in terror.

“Ah—Stop— _Please_! You’re hurting me— _Please_!”

But if anything, my screams spur him on and entice him, and I feel him press further inside. My tail has fully bristled in fear and pain, and I just can’t stand this. I’m being violated by my former lover. My body knows his body—this is the third time I’ve taken him inside me—but it’s not really him.

However—my tail is licked and massaged, and my dick is lovingly stroked—and I respond instantly—my _body_ responds instantly—and I hear him growling low—maybe purring—and sighing as he advances. He isn’t being violent—he could be violent, he could tear me to pieces—but this feels tender.

“You feel so warm inside—warm, soft, all-encompassing. You _belong_ to me—I want to devour your pleasure, your pain, your fear—all of it.”

That voice—it gives me chills. My Rai would never speak like this, and tears stream down my face—and I cry out in pain and pleasure as he continues advancing inside. 

“It may hurt less if you relax your body, little Sanga.” I feel fingers prodding my entrance, stretching me wider, and he gently separates my thighs. His touch is so gentle and familiar—but this is _not_ Rai. This is _not_ my Touga. This is _not_ my silver cat.

This is... _what he desires_.

The thought pulses in my brain—ringing out in an alarm. 

_I am what he desires._

Again, a sound like an alarm rings in my head. My fur bristles, my tail relaxes, and my thighs relax enough to stop trembling. If there is even a small part of my Rai in there, and he wants _me_ , he desires _me_ , shouldn’t I submit? 

Tugging hard at the restraints overhead, I am trapped—and I feel the slick leather of his pants pressing up against the back of my legs and my ass. He hasn’t removed his clothing. I can feel every strand of his silver hair brushing against my back and my sides—and he smells amazing. When my body has finally accepted all of him, I hear him make a deep, satisfied sound, like a purr and moan mixed together. My ears are licked in turn. He runs his hands down the length of my body, beginning at my restrained wrists, trailing them up my forearms and elbows, finally to my upper arms and sides, then back down, tracing my waist.

“Beautiful. I have desired you since we first fought in the southern forest. When I swept your legs out from beneath you, and you glared up at me with those angry eyes of yours, I felt your warmth in my chest.”

Again, a shiver rushes through my body, and he snaps his hips roughly against me—out then in—in a smooth movement. My ass makes a slapping sound when we connect, and I lose my breath. It hurts, and I cry out in pain—but it’s weird. There’s something more than pain, too.

“I watched you sleep—each night at Bardo’s inn—and I wanted to claim your innocence and your defiant eyes. But most of all, I wanted your warmth. You slept so soundly, even while sharing a room with a beast.” 

He snaps his hips again, and a numbing tingling sensation shoots up into my back, making me cry out. 

“Your innocence is what allowed you to sleep so soundly, and you denied the beast who lusted after you, imagining what your voice would sound like if you came undone with pleasure. I wanted you to call my name—and then, you _did_.” 

I cry out again as he fucks me—each thrust becomes smoother—and his voice is losing its strength as well, becoming heated and breathless. 

“Even then, you accused me of doing whatever I wanted. And what I wanted, more than anything, was to hear that mysterious voice of yours cry out in helpless pleasure at the touch of my hands—I wanted you at my mercy. I still do.”

This time, when he shifts positions, he brushes along that special place inside my body and I scream in pleasure—but it feels like my heart is breaking. This is _not_ my lover. Goosebumps shiver on my skin.

“Surrender everything to me, Konoe.”

That phrase—he spoke that phrase last time—calling my name for the first time—and even as I cry out and my body indulges the pleasure he is giving me, my heart shatters like glass. Because this is _not_ my Rai.

“Oh—but I _am_. Now, I am very much ‘your Rai,’” the demon whispers, and it just breaks my heart even more. I am sobbing in addition to my cries of pleasure—and I don’t know what to do.

“Please,” I beg softly. “ _Please_.” Even I don’t know if I’m begging for more or begging him to stop—but I am at his mercy. There’s nothing I can do. The tip of my tail is stimulated, my cock is being stroked, my nape is being licked and sucked and—oh, my gods—bitten and licked. I feel fangs sinking in between my neck and shoulder, and I feel a warm tongue licking off blood as though devouring me. 

My thighs tremble and my abdomen pulls strangely, and I think— _I have to surrender. I can’t do anymore._

“Please—I can’t— _please._ ”

“Call my name.” The tip of my cock is teased strongly and I lose my ability to think. “Call my name and you will be relieved. Surrender your body to me and I will relieve you.” 

My toes curl, my claws draw, and I’m about to come—my breath catching wildly—but his hand clamps down hard at the base of my dick, preventing me from release. I know I can’t take much more of this, and I bury my face in the mattress, the sheets feel cool against my nose.

“ _Surrender_ , Konoe.”

Riling me up to my limit once again, I am caressed and stroked, licked and kissed, nipped and bitten. And he stops my release when he squeezes my hilt again hard.

“Ah—mmm— _Please_! I can’t—!”

“You can, and you _will_. Call my name.”

“Mmm, ah—please,” my voice lowering to a whisper, and then I finally submit and obey. “R-Rai.” It comes out in a husky purr, drawn out, longing. I yearn for my Touga to return, but I know calling him won't bring him back.

He releases his hold and thrusts even deeper, fucking me as though he were fucking me to death. But it’s enough and I release—my vision goes white for a moment, my thoughts blank, my desire overflowing to peaceful, indulgent feelings of pleasure and relaxation. My insides squeeze him so hard he has to slow his movements, and I hear him groan when he releases inside me, too.

A strange sensation rushes through me, though, when I receive his passion. I feel it spill inside of me, and he slows his thrusts and gently rides out his climax. A chill covers my body—starting right where he and I are connected—maybe from the liquid inside me. But I feel an eerie joy filling my heart, akin to bloodlust. It makes me dizzy.

However, this doesn’t seem to be unexpected. The devil relaxes his body behind me, stroking me tenderly, then he lies down next to me on the mattress. I see him bring his hand up to his mouth—and I realize he is licking the remains of my spilled passion there. My ears flush, and I feel so guilty—I don’t know what to do—except burst into tears.

I’m met with a soft sexy smile—it looks so erotic with both eyes missing—and eerie that he can still see me. He leans in and licks every tear from my face, like a dessert.

I’m exhausted and spent—from fighting, from sex, from emotions, from resistance—and I submit to his grooming. 

_Is this my Rai? Is this my Rai now? Could I grow to love him and adore him as I did the original Rai?_

Tears continue to fall, and my soft sobbing continues. He comforts me with grooming, and he releases my wrists from the restraints, pulling me against his chest, turning me to my side. 

“I’m sure you will adjust soon, Konoe. And I am here for you, here and now—and you’ve always loved me, as I have adored you.”


	2. A Reward and a Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> POV switch to the devil, after their connection, Rai considers his captured prey and his next move.
> 
> Warning: blow job (non-consensual).

I leave the warm kitten alone for a little while—he believes he still requires rest and sleep. He’s always required rest and sleep. Is it his youth? His anxiety? His conflicted feelings? I’m sure that must be it—those feelings at war inside him are exhausting him. I could see them clearly when he refused to submit, refused to yield his body to me, despite his temptation and clear desire. 

Even if I am no longer the cat he called his Touga, I am _more_ that cat than he ever was, and the kitten should come to this conclusion himself. So why am I conflicted? 

As I watch him, sleeping almost peacefully in this bed—still restrained with his wrists overhead—I realize those thick metal bands making his delicate bones look even more delicate, I wonder how long this adjustment will take. It doesn’t matter because he is mine now. We have all the time in the world. But there is something inside my chest that I know doesn’t belong there—a feeling that is opposite from joy. I can’t quite place it, and it hurts. And I do not feel that kind of pain in my world.

 _He_ is the cause. 

I release his wrists from the restraints, but he doesn’t wake. He purrs quietly, curling up on his side, pulling his arms around his knees, that fluffy little tail with the crooked tip sweetly wrapping over him like extra protection. The way he is sleeping is protective. He must feel the need to protect himself from me, and that is what feels wrong.

I _saved_ him, I will _help_ him, he is my Sanga and partner—he will live here forever. Whether he believes he is fulfilling the promise of his own free will or has been forcibly dragged here is all the same to me. But he will never leave this place. Even if I gave him the choice, where would he go?

To the devil of wrath? The devil of pleasure? The devil of grief?

I seethe inwardly for a moment—if I still had fur, I’d bristle at the very idea. It’s true that the kitten has a knack for anger and wrath, that he has the unique ability to change anger into action and power. It’s also true that he’s experienced a lot of grief in his life and easily succumbs to it—for example when he saw his home village destroyed. Also, that despite his easily embarrassed nature, he is easily physically pleased and easily stimulated—he indulges in lust freely, lets out his voice in pleasure—just as he did even with me.

Perhaps my type of joy—this bloodlust—is not part of his intrinsic nature. 

I think back about how many times he’s stopped me from killing—even those who _needed_ to be killed. The undead in the village outside of the Field of Four Colors is the first example that comes to mind. He didn’t want me to kill the man about to attack him—he didn’t wish to kill _any_ of them, even when that was the only choice. And when we fought the Meigi Touga and Sanga twins, he said something strange—when the Sanga is defeated, it’s as good as winning, almost as if he didn’t understand the joy behind taking a life. 

Is it something inborn? Does he value life that _isn’t_ his? Or is this similar to his initial reticence of touching me? When I kissed him in the woods after the night at the festival, more than anything, I wanted to take him right there—fuck him—and he refused my advances. At first, I thought it was inexperience and shyness. Then I thought it must be the orange tabby or the black cat who had taken my rightful place in his heart. But when it was neither of those things... was it fear? Pride?

It makes me want to strip this kitten down to nothing but his essence and see what is underneath. Maybe _that_ is where I will find his urge to kill.

He did make me that promise—to take my life when I was no longer myself. But I am _more_ myself now than I ever have been. But his promise soothed me—it soothed my heart.

I stroke his tail lightly. What next? More rest? His body does not _need_ to eat here, nor does it need sleep, but his mind is not yet aware of it. He was sore when I entered him today—and confused—filled with both pleasure and pain. I am tempted to take him again.

Perhaps I should reward him—for his obedience—for calling my name as he was told. He will be difficult to train, I know. He didn’t listen when he was in our last world—I doubt he will submit to me in mine. So—perhaps now, he deserves a treat. 

He’s no longer restrained in any way, still sleeping curled up on his side, naked. Gods, a beautiful creature. Perfect and innocent. Careless and carefree. He is sleeping soundly. I lie down in the bed next to him and stretch out his legs a little. I begin grooming the fur just below his belly.

In addition to not needing food or sleep, he also doesn’t need time to recover from our sexual activities, which should be extremely pleasurable, if maybe slightly painful, but he may find pleasure in the pain, too. I will teach him that joy. 

I allow myself to purr—it’s a quality that has remained even in this new form of mine—as my tongue glides through the soft fur, touching his skin deliberately beneath the soft, silky fur, moving from his navel, lower and lower. His purr grows louder, but he does not wake. He’s always been a deep sleeper. I thought about doing this to him so many times while we were at the old man’s inn and always held myself back, never daring to be myself. Now, in this form, I don’t have to hold myself back and can do what I like.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Warm blood pumps through his circulatory system. Sweet, hot, fresh, red.

My hearing is better now than it has ever been—and I can hear his strong, young heart pick up its rhythm. It’s a beautiful sound. And his scent is sweet, his taste is sweet, even when he is not afraid, he tastes nothing but sweet to me, as he did during the mating season. Ah.

I groom out to his hips and the outside his thighs, then I nip the inside of his thigh, using my teeth, at the crease where his hip connects. I want him awake and aware for his reward.

I hear a quiet hiss, and he starts to squirm underneath me, so I push him onto his back. He is disoriented for a few minutes, wondering at the state of his body, where he is, and why it is responding so easily to my touch. I let my hands slip along the inside of his thighs. His skin is pale and silky, so virginal, though he can no longer be called such, he still looks and feels unspoiled and perfect. I draw a small purring sigh from his throat—and it is most definitely pleasured.

I feel his hands move. He runs his fingers through my hair, searching out my ears—but they freeze when they find my horns. His body jerks in surprise, as though he has woken from a nightmare into an even more horrifying reality. His fingers carefully feel up the black spiral horns to the tips—slowly tracing them—and I hear his chest hitch in a sob. 

“No,” he whispers. “Please—d-don’t do this.” His voice is so quiet, so filled with sorrow and pain—and his taste changes right then. 

To me, it’s the difference between the sweetness of natural fruit to the artificial, delectable sweetness of candy, and I sigh and hum with pleasure when I let my mouth sink around his dick. He is already hard and dripping. He is unable to withstand my advances, and his body is already defeated.

“Please, stop!” His voice is covered with tears, desperate, pleading. And I _adore_ it. I want to hear more.

I tilt my face up a little to get a better look at him. He sees a demon wearing his lover’s face, I’m sure, his cock immersed in my mouth to the base, my tongue pressing into his slit. And I see my beloved—my Sanga—my kitten—at my mercy, at war with himself.

All I want is for him to submit himself to me. And he was able to do just that at my request. Perhaps I should let him know this is a reward for pleasing me. 

I pull him out of my mouth and hear him gasp sweetly—he’s such a sensitive little thing.

“Just relax, little Sanga,” I purr. “This is your reward. You needn’t lift a finger.”

And then I immerse him in my mouth again and hear another heart-melting moan. I also push two fingers inside of him at the same time and that surprises him. He flattens his ears and tries to squirm away, but he’s already prepared for me, even if he is still slightly sore.

“Uh—n-no— _please_ —don’t!” 

But I do. I scissor my fingers apart and search for that place inside of him that makes him come undone. Using a come-hither motion, I hook them forward, using the rest of my hand to stimulate just outside of his entrance, and his body melts into my touch.

Ah— _there_ it is! 

I can tell by his heart rate—ba-da-bump, ba-da-bump—faster and faster—as well as his increased breathing, though he has both hands covering his mouth. I will allow this—only today. I will have a discussion with him about the consequences of suppressing his voice when I wish to hear him when I’m done here.

It is short work to drive him to his limit—especially with my hand is inside him and my tongue pressing into his slit. I use my other hand to massage the base of his tail, and I move it out toward the end, slowly—toward the hooked tip. When I reach the tip of his tail, pinching it between my fingertips, he is in tears—tears of pleasure and grief. And yet, he releases in a glorious climax.

His taste—my _gods_ —it’s sweeter than anything I can remember! I take long slow grooming strokes of his cock and lick it clean, being careful to cover every inch of him with my tongue so as not to miss a drop. He shivers from the core of his being, shuddering and purring—submissive and compliant now.

Then, I pull my hands from inside him, massaging his entrance as I do, massaging the rim of his entrance as I speak. He’s relaxed now, his pupils blown dark, but his face an enchanting mix of guilt, sorrow, and absolute joy. 

“Kitten, listen.” 

His ears perk up almost fearfully at the sound of my voice. 

“This was a reward for your good behavior earlier. When I asked you to call me by name and obeyed—I wanted to give you positive reinforcement. However...” 

His ears flatten at my tone, though his pupils remain dark and wide.

“You might recall I told you I wanted to hear your voice?”

He doesn’t reply. He only stares at me. 

“Do you remember?” I ask more sharply this time.

“Yes,” he replies, looking down.

“And yet, you covered your mouth.” 

He will not meet my gaze. It’s probably confusing that I can see him—even better now through heat signatures than I could ever see with my eyes. But this refusal of eye contact is something he does when he is ashamed. 

“Why? You clearly enjoyed your reward.” 

“I didn’t _want_ it!” That childish voice bursts from him. I don’t understand why he won’t be honest with himself.

“Konoe, you need to be more honest with yourself and with your desires,” I growl. “I could feel your body responding, even as you slept.”

“I don’t want this with _you_!” His voice is covered with tears. “It tears me apart inside! Why didn’t you leave me to die?! How much _more_ are you going to make me suffer?!”

“You are my Sanga, aren’t you?” I ask smoothly, licking my lips—and the last bit of his tasty sweetness from them.

He sighs. 

“You have not fulfilled your promise to me,” I growl again. 

Several tears slip down the kitten’s cheeks and I lick them up with abandon. They too are sweet—the same sweet candy taste as when he is afraid. Only this... this is _despair_. 

“Please.”

“I’m trying to decide whether I should punish your insolence or not,” I say thoughtfully.

His ears flatten and his eyes widen at my words. 

“B-but I-I d-didn’t—” 

“You didn’t _what_? You didn’t think I would notice if you covered your mouth? Well, I did. And it ruined my enjoyment of this activity. How will you make it up to me?”

“I-I w-won’t d-do it again,” he says, after a pause. “I-I’m s-sorry. I-I d-didn’t know h-how important it w-was to you.”

“That doesn’t make up for what you did, though. Does it?” 

His ears are positively drooping, and several more tears drip from his eyes. 

“Y-you c-could j-just k-kill me,” he whispers. 

I jerk my chin up at his words. He really is filled with despair, but I had no idea how much.

“I’ve failed—you. I’ll n-never be able to k-keep my promise if you’re in that form. I c-couldn’t s-save you. I’ve failed to confront Leaks. I’ve failed to save the world. My song did not make a difference. I’m useless. I’m... no one. Just a copy.” He heaves a huge breathy sob, and fresh tears fall.

“What’s this, then? Dwelling on the past? Do you feel you have the time to do that now?”

His ears perk up a little, and he glances at me, utterly confused. 

“Perhaps you should be more concerned with what is going on in front of you, right now. And that is, you have currently very much _displeased_ your master. And you are doing nothing to rectify the situation.” 

“I don’t know what you _want_ from me!” he shouts, sounding much more like the kitten I know and love.

“I want you to make amends.” 

“How?”

“Perhaps you might soothe me.” 

“S-soothe you? H-how? D-do you want to f-fuck me _again_?” he sobs hopelessly.

“Hmm,” I consider, and he looks downright afraid. The fear on his face almost makes me want to do it.

“A s-song?” He says the words so quietly, I almost don’t hear them. 

“What?” 

“I could sing you a song,” he repeats, more confidently.

That is what I want.

“If I dislike it, you will pay harsher consequences— _physical_ consequences—which is what will happen the next time you deliberately disobey me. In this world, it is for you to _submit_. Do you understand?” 

“...”

“Do you understand?!” I repeat, more harshly this time. 

“Um, y-yes.”

There’s a soft pause, and I can feel the warmth coming from his body—radiating like the noonday moon of light in the peak of summer. He is searching for his song, and it resonates in my soul—but wait. It _can’t_. Froud released my soul, didn’t he? So where exactly does it resonate? In my heart? I still have a heart?

Then, a gentle melody fills the room, wrapping my body with light and warmth and a soft feeling—like love, tenderness, and nostalgia. This song, I know it. He sang it for me on the rooftop the day we returned from his decimated hometown. It fills me with feeling, with warmth—so unlike the warmth I get from bloodlust. 

It takes my breath away. 

Indeed, I _am_ soothed. I close my eyes and lie down next to him. Pulling him into my arms, feeling his tears splash against my chest, I let him sing till he can no longer move. It’s beautiful. Everything I ever wanted is right here at my fingertips.

He is perfect.


	3. The Training Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The demon starts "training" Konoe--much to Konoe's confusion.
> 
> I should note this chapter contains cruel and unusual punishment. This is not Rai, but Froud's replacement--Devil Rai--who is in this chapter. And Konoe is not quite himself, either--he has lost a lot of what makes him who he is by being taken to this world.
> 
> Trigger warnings: non-con punishment, BDSM (really unsafe practices--really, really unsafe), non-con spanking, non-con caning, cruelty, and abuse, beginning of Stockholm Syndrome.
> 
> Also, my surgery went well but I broke my arm, and I am in severe pain. Hence, I am beating the SHIT out of my characters. So maybe skip this if that is not your thing.

I’ve been left alone for some time again—in this strange room with the bed and sitting area. I’m naked except for the collar and cuffs. What is this place? It’s dark and cold in here—and I’m finding myself so alone—but the only other person here is that demon wearing my lover’s face, and he makes me feel even more alone!

Do I miss him?

As I ponder these strange thoughts, the door to the room opens and the demon enters.

“Today, we will start your training.” His voice shares some of the same qualities as Rai’s voice, except it has none of the dignity and it sounds almost cheerful.

“Training?” I ask nervously, sitting up on the bed. “What kind of training?” 

“First, when I enter the room, I want you to greet me properly. I am your Touga, am I not?”

I say nothing. I don’t know _who_ this demon is. He looks and smells like Rai. He sounds a little like Rai. And he feels a lot like Rai. But I don’t want to acknowledge him as such. I think he is the creature I promised to kill and I have failed. Now I have no weapon—and as though he is reading my desperate thoughts, I hear a soft chuckle.

“Get up out of the bed and kneel at my feet, little Sanga.”

I stay right where I am and keep my eyes trained on him. His softly smiling expression does not change.

“Are you digging in your heels so early in your training? Do you want to see what happens when you disobey your master?” 

“You are _not_ my master!” I blurt, but for safety, I back away from his tall figure, squishing myself against the headboard.

He lifts up his right hand and points a finger at me. A black sash shoots from his fingertip and wraps itself around my collar. He makes a slight pulling motion with his wrist, and I am pulled violently from the bed by the collar around my neck—the sash yanks me from the bed. I land roughly on the floor in a puddle at his feet, unable to breathe for a moment, as the wind has been knocked from my lungs. I cough violently.

“I am your master, kitten,” the demon purrs softly, rubbing my ears tenderly. “Now, _kneel_.”

I am horrified. I look up at the demon’s face—still not used to that left eye missing. I hesitate for a moment too long and my ear is grabbed harshly. 

“I said, _kneel_.” Weirdly, his voice remains calm, just like my silver cat's did. 

A small yelp leaks out of my mouth, and I obey this time, scrambling to my knees as quickly as I can, just to release the pressure on my ear.

“Please,” I beg softly, tears seeping from the corners of my eyes.

My ear is finally released, and I lower my face to the floor, staring at the demon’s boots. They are similar to the tall boots Rai wore in Sisa—only these are all black, not black and blue.

“Beautiful.” My ears are pet softly. “This is how you should appear before me when I enter the room. I would like you to greet me in this manner.”

I don’t say anything, but I am filled with humiliation. The hand on my ear slips down to my chin.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed the power balance here. I hold all the power in this world, and you have none.”

I nod.

My chin is tipped up slightly so I meet the non-existent gaze of the demon. He seems to be looking at me—but he has no eyes. So can he actually see me? I want to ask, but I don’t dare.

“When I ask you a question, I’d like a verbal answer from you—unless there is something in your mouth that is preventing you from answering, such as a gag. Do you understand?”

What? A gag!? Does he have plans to gag me? What the hell? I gasp in horror.  
  
“Um, yes, I understand.”

His claws gently rub my chin, and a finger slips inside my mouth—much to my surprise.

“Don’t do anything foolish, now,” he warns, as he presses his finger around inside my mouth—pushing my tongue down, feeling underneath it, and feeling around inside my cheeks. He tastes a little strange—almost sweet. It’s odd. But the rest of his hand is brushing the skin of my chin and throat, almost threateningly—like he could choke me or even break my jaw—and I start to sweat.

I make a small protesting noise, a begging sound, and look up at his face, fresh tears spilling from my eyes, pleading with him to stop. But this only encourages the exploration and the violence of the touch, making him push further back on my tongue, and I start to choke and cough as he gags me.

My mouth closes around his finger accidentally as I cough from being gagged—and I’m suddenly very frightened. Is he going to punish me for biting him?

His eyebrows narrow sharply and he glares down at me, withdrawing his fingers from my mouth and holding my chin up at a sharp angle.

“I-i-i’m very s-sorry,” I implore him. “I-i d-didn’t m-mean t-to b-bite. I-i c-couldn’t h-help ch-choking.” My voice is covered in tears and sounds pitiful.

“Perhaps you didn’t mean to, yet you did. How do you plan to make up for your mistake?”

My eyes widen.

“I-i d-don’t kn-now, s-sir!” I sob. “What d-do y-you w-want from me?!”

“I want a submissive kitten who knows his place,” the demon says softly, his voice husky. He keeps my chin in his hand firmly, my tail waving nervously. I’m no longer seated on the floor, though I’m still on my knees. And I feel his other hand on my head, skating down my hair, shoulders, and back. A small shudder shivers through my body, fluffing out my fur.

“I will submit to you,” I say quietly, trying to lower my gaze, but my face is still pointed at his directly.

“Submissive kittens do not bite.”

Not knowing what else to do, I wrap my fluffy tail around his leg—hoping this will demonstrate how sorry I am. He seems pleased and strokes it softly, pinching the crooked tip, which sends another shiver into my spine. I close my eyes.

“I am sorry.”

“In my world, being sorry isn’t good enough. You must pay for your misdeed with consequences.”

A bolt of fear shoots through me at the thought of this demon punishing me.

“Consequences, sir?” I look up fearfully.

“A truly submissive kitten who is sorry from the bottom of his heart would accept whatever consequences I deem appropriate. Don’t you think?”

“Y-yes, of c-course,” I reply, hesitantly, unable to stop my nervous stammer.

He drops my chin suddenly, folding his arms across his chest.

“Bend over the bed, now.”

“Sir? Rai?” Remaining kneeling on the floor, I try using my lover’s name—trying to call to him—hoping that will bring him back to me. He can’t be serious!

“You have not submitted to my request, kitten,” his voice purrs. “Realize, this is making your punishment more severe.”

“Please!” I beg, tears streaming down my face. “Rai! I don’t know what you want from me!”

“Kitten,” he kneels before me, meeting my gaze with his non-existent one—it makes my skin crawl and sends a shiver up my spine. “I told you what I want. I told you to bend over the bed.”

With his words, he grabs my collar and forces me off the ground, lifting me up over the bed in the position he wants me. I cry out loud when he does this, begging for all I’m worth.

“Please! Rai! Don’t do this! Please! It was an accident!”

“While I’m pleased to hear you using my name, I’m afraid it’s too late for that,” the demon purrs softly in my ear, stroking my fur gently. I’m bent roughly over the bed—and I’m very aware that I’m nude when I feel his claws stroking my lower back and bottom—making me shiver. “A submissive kitten will obey me—regardless of what his body desires. Your body doesn’t have the same needs here as it did. You don’t have to choke. You don’t have to rest or eat. You don’t even have to breathe. So overcome your earthly needs and be _mine_.”

“Rai! _Please_ —don’t hurt me!”

“It’s not my intention to hurt you, but to _train_ you,” his husky voice continues. “When you don’t comply with my commands, a physical reminder will most likely be effective in modifying your behavior. Unfortunately, it may indeed be painful.”

“Please!” I’m struggling on the bed, trying to kick my legs, but even that is futile.

“Don’t resist so much, kitten. You’ll only make your punishment more severe. Don’t you know this? Take what you have coming to you and submit.” His voice is almost tender, and his hand certainly is as it strokes me gently.

But then, my tail is pulled suddenly—yanked harshly up toward the ceiling—which takes my breath away and straightens my hips. It also makes me plant both my feet on the floor, gasping for breath. His other hand comes down on my bare ass—right at the place where my thighs and buttocks meet—at my most sensitive place—and I remember vividly when my silver cat actually licked me there.

Tears spill from my eyes as a cry is pulled from my mouth—and the noise his hand makes against my skin is nothing if not humiliating! I try to cover myself up, but I can’t move my hands—they are stretched out to my sides and bound to the bed by those strange black sashes.

Again and again, he spanks me—my skin is warmed up until it burns—and I’m sobbing real tears of shame and pain. All this because I choked on his fingers?

“Please—ah!” I beg. But it’s to no avail.

I bring my thighs together, which serves to raise my ass up a little more, presenting it a little better even as it protects the skin inside my thighs, and he seems pleased with this—but he continues spanking me, and I give him plenty of tears.

Finally, he stops, running his hand across my skin, releasing my tail. I collapse on the bed, my arms still bound. My hair is pulled up roughly, and my neck is craned back slightly.

“Shall we see if you’ve learned from your lesson?” His voice is still very soft. “Open your mouth.” 

A wave of fear rushes through my body, but I obey without delay, and I feel his finger searching around inside my mouth once again. I try to keep in mind that I don’t need to choke—I don’t even need to breathe—but it doesn’t help. My fear rises more and more, the further back his fingers reach, and I choke again. I try to keep my mouth open, and I do better this time, not chomping down so hard on his hands when I choke this time, but I still choke just the same, tears spilling from my eyes.

“So you know what this means, don’t you, kitten?” He asks gently.

“Please,” I beg. “I-I c-can’t!”

“You did much better than you did before,” the demon says. “So the discipline is working. Shall we try something a little different?”

“N-no! _Please_!” 

I feel something solid and cool pressed against my thighs—it’s slim—oh, gods—a small wooden stick? A cane? And I hear a whistling sound in the air before it smacks against my sit spot. Now, a scream escapes my mouth instead of just tears. Tears, too—but this pain is raw and visceral. The demon wants to _hurt_ me! He is trying to make me _suffer_! Rai would _never_ make me suffer!

Wait... _Would_ he?

Smack! A second stroke comes down at the top of the back of my thighs and I scream even louder. I can feel a welt rising on my legs and tears drip down onto the bedspread as I cry bitter tears.  
  
Although—if this demon is a manifestation of my Rai’s desires, is this what he has _always_ wanted from me? Perhaps he thinks I suffer beautifully?

Smack! This stroke centered on my buttocks—both cheeks—and I feel them jiggling. This one isn’t as painful as the ones centered on my thighs or my sit spot, but my skin is still hot from the spanking, and I scream just the same.

If my Rai _wanted_ to spank me—would I allow it? If he _wanted_ to do it—wouldn’t I submit?

Smack! Another stroke on my sit spot makes me lose my train of thought and scream.

“Please! _Please_! I _submit_! I _submit_! I will do _anything_ for you!” I cry the words through my tears.

Smack! The fifth comes down on my thighs again—and this feels like it’s flaying the skin from my body.

“You may do _anything_ you like to me! And I will take it gladly!” I cry desperately. “ _Please_ —I _submit_!”

“Kitten, you may _say_ that, but you are fighting your punishment tooth and nail. You are pulling on your restraints, trying to escape the blows. You submit to _nothing_ ,” the demon chuckles.

Smack! Another blow jiggles my ass—and I scream. If he wanted it, of course, I would submit. It hurt when I gave him my body that last night before we encountered Leaks, and I did it without hesitation. If he wanted something more, of course, I would do it. Perhaps this is no different. Perhaps I should allow it.

“I’m sorry,” I whimper softly. “I did not understand.”

“What didn’t you understand?” The demon asks.

“I-I didn’t realize… it was _you_. Of course, you can have anything you desire from me. I may fail to please you at times—and if you wish to punish me for it, of course, I will submit. But I will do my best for you. I don’t know how not to choke—but I will try and I will _learn_. I _want_ to please you. I-I…”  
  
“You what?”

“I would do _anything_ for your sake. You are all I have. You are all I have ever had.”

“Wonderful.” My arms are released, and I am suddenly treated to a lovely, cool feeling on my buttocks and thighs—a cold cream? A salve? So gentle and tender—what _is_ that? Where is he getting that? It almost feels like… a tongue? I try not to think about it. I just relax and submit and enjoy it, even as it slips between my legs and makes me shudder.

The demon raises his torso up close to mine again, and once more inserts a finger in my mouth as my head is turned to the side. This time, I close my eyes and relax—imagining I am with _my_ silver cat. I _am_ with my silver cat. I imagine I have his dick in my mouth—and this makes some inappropriate sounds leak out, which can’t be helped. It really gets me in the mood!

But I do _not_ gag this time, and I definitely do _not_ bite—even as he feels around inside my mouth.

“Mmm. There’s my _good_ kitten. I knew you could do it. Now, I will let you rest and recover for a while—just to think on things a bit, all right? You are _not_ to touch yourself, however. Do you understand?”

I’m filled with disappointment, and tears spill down my face.

“So sweet.” The demon licks my face. “I’ll return for you in a bit. This too is part of your training. Patience. Your body is no longer your own. You belong to me now.”


	4. Submission and Self-Loathing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another update to this triggering fanfic. Konoe's mind is deteriorating quickly. He is suffering and grieving because he failed to fulfill his promise while he was still in the living world and starts to believe that he deserves this treatment.
> 
> Devil Rai comes back to torment his slave. He forces Konoe to give him oral sex and then denies him an orgasm, making him wait.
> 
> Trigger warning: Non-con oral sex, orgasm delay, forced masturbation, mind-fucking. Again, not for the faint of heart.

Hate and revulsion course through my body now. Not toward the demon, but toward myself. I have failed. I am curled up on the bed, my body soundly punished, and I understand what he was trying to do. 

The demon is rightfully upset with me for not fulfilling my promise to kill him when he was no longer Rai, and he is making me see and understand my failure. If I _truly_ regret not fulfilling this promise—and I will never be able to take his life while in a world in which he rules over everything—I would be willing to do anything to atone.

 _Anything_.

That includes submitting fully to whatever "training" he has in mind, such as kneeling before him when he enters the room. I wonder, will I be able to do such a thing now? I can hardly move from this place on the bed, but I will try to obey when he returns.

My body _longs_ for his return—much to my surprise. It must simply be the blood pooling in my waist from the spanking and caning. What am I supposed to do? Perhaps I could take care of this myself—but he specifically forbade me touching myself.

I turn to my side—I can’t lie on my back since the welts on my skin sting so much—and I let my hand skate down the side of my body. It feels like someone else’s hand, almost, because of the heavy cuff on my wrist. I don’t touch my arousal. I simply stroke the fur beneath my belly, which tickles just a little, and it feels tender and gentle. I crave a gentle touch more than anything right now. I long for my silver cat’s grooming touch to my ears. _That_ is what I want more than anything.

I would even settle for the demon’s grooming, I realize.

Suddenly, the door opens, and I leap up out of bed, as quickly as I can, and get to the floor on my knees. I am equally thrilled and devastated to be graced with the demon’s presence. I keep my face lowered and watch as his boots approach. He is close enough to brush my ears.

A small sigh leaks from my mouth when he touches my ears—it’s just what I needed. But then, I hear his husky voice, and his words frighten me. 

“You are here to satisfy me.”

Keeping my face low, my eyes focus on the toes of his shiny black boots.

“I want you to pleasure me with your mouth.”

My fur fluffs up at his command, a visceral reaction, and I shiver slightly. I’m surprised he trusts me not to bite him, frankly. The demon grabs my collar and I am dragged to a chair, where he takes a seat.

“Here. So I can see the consequences of your training in your reflection.”

My hair is pulled roughly, lifting me off the floor but still on my knees, my neck is craned roughly, forcing me to look over my shoulder. I am stunned to see a mirror behind me—and the cat in the mirror looks _nothing_ like me. I have a giant wound on my back, my fur bristles, my hair is a tattered mess, my fangs peep through my lips, and my eyes are dark and large. And certainly, my buttocks and thighs are striped with slim, red welts, meticulously spaced and standing out obviously on my fair skin. Despite my injuries, or possibly because of them, I look aroused and sexy. 

A small noise of shock escapes my mouth when I see my reflection. I’m horrified.

“What is it? You look lovely.” An incredibly erotic smile crosses the demon’s lips. “I should like to see you look like this all the time, little Sanga. You have come to understand your role here, haven’t you?”

My hair is released, and I lower myself back to the floor, wincing when my ass comes to rest on my calves.

“I have, sir.”

“That I am your master and you are my slave? Your role is total obedience. That is how you will atone.”

“Yes, sir,” I mumble quietly, another tear sliding down my face.

“After such a harsh punishment, I’d expect you to flinch from me, and yet you seem eager to please me. In fact, I can smell your arousal, Konoe.”

Another shiver—well, more like a shudder—ripples through my fur and across my skin. I don’t know how to respond.

“Yes, sir,” I whisper miserably.

“For now, I would like you to service me. If I feel a touch of teeth—even accidental grazing from you—the punishment will be more severe than what you’ve had so far.” Fear shivers through my body right alongside my desire. It’s such a strange combination, one feeling heightening the other. “Imagine, for a moment, what it might feel like.”  
  
My collar is pulled again, lifting me up roughly, and I feel his hand gently fingering the welts on my buttocks and sit spot. I try not to cry out, but a small yelp escapes.

“If you are sensitive to this tender touch, how might a _belt_ feel? _Imagine_ it.”

I don’t want to imagine it, but his hand keeps stroking me, and I have no choice. His fingers are excessively gentle, but it still hurts. My skin feels hot and swollen. I do, in fact, imagine what a belt or strap lashing across my skin would feel like, and it does not feel pleasant. Tears slip from my eyes, even from that gentle touch—and yet, I still find it arouses me further.

“Please,” I beg. I’m afraid to look at his face.

“Good kitten. Now, do as I’ve asked and service me.”

He releases my collar, letting me collapse back down to the floor—and I give another small yelp of pain. To reach him, I have to keep myself raised up off the floor, and I feel his hand come up to gently touch the fur on my ears. I really hope he doesn’t touch my ass—I may bite if he does, and I won’t be able to withstand another punishment.

I unbuckle the belt around his trousers and unbutton and unzip his fly. He is already hard—I have done this once before, and it pains me to remember that time.

> "Where did you learn something like that?"
> 
> "Do this only for me."

Jealousy. He expressed jealousy for the first time, I realize. My heart feels like it’s breaking—but I feel I've earned this heartbreak and pain when I failed to fulfill that promise I made as a Sanga to my Touga. I try to focus on the sensations, as I huff against his underwear—and he relaxes in the chair. 

Pushing the waistband of his underwear down, I free his cock—and I lick it from base to tip. I’m not sure I’m permitted to look at his face, but I do occasionally glance up from under my lashes to see his expression, and he seems to be taking pleasure in what I am doing. Can he see me, I wonder, and for not the first time? He appears to be watching my movements carefully, but he has no eyesight. I wonder why I feel so caught in his gaze. Heat signatures? Froud had some sort of vision, I think—and this Devil Rai must have some similar vision. But how do I look to him?  
  
I don’t have to wonder. He said, just now, that I look lovely. Those were his words. He finds me lovely—he desires me. And that is what pushes me forward. Some part of my Touga is still in there, and that is what makes me look ahead.

Starting slowly at first, and concentrating around the tip and rim, I press my tongue into the tip. A soft purr comes from his body as well as an unexpected sigh. It’s a lovely sound, actually, and it spurs me on. His cock feels the same as it did, and it helps me keep my jaw and throat relaxed as I work more of him into my mouth. He feels familiar, and that is a comfort—and it’s also heartbreaking. 

Soon, however, I realize he intends to do more than be a passive recipient. Even with my hands on the base of his shaft, he grabs my hair and cranes my neck up again sharply as though to examine my face. That strange eyeless gaze captures me again, and I feel like my heart will stop.

Then, he thrusts his hips into my mouth, keeping one hand grabbing my hair and the other on my collar. Of course, I choke, but I keep my mouth open wide, making sure not to graze him with my fangs. It feels like he is trying to make me bite him. I watch him—keeping my eyes open, tears sparkling on my lashes.

After a few minutes, in addition to choking, tears begin to flow from my eyes as I try to get air into my lungs, and the soft sighs I am making now turn to pleading. I look up at him desperately—as though begging him to stop. His facial expression looks almost kind and is certainly gentle—and it doesn’t match at all what he is doing to me. That makes this experience even more terrifying.

“Use more tongue, little Sanga,” he murmurs gently.

How? I can’t with his choking me! It will make me gag more. I continue my desperate pleading looks, but try to comply, tears now rolling down my face. I am gasping for breath through my nose, but his cock is blocking my airway completely, and my vision is getting hazy and gray around the edges.

“Good kitten,” he purrs softly, continuing to thrust at a wild pace. I can feel he is getting close to coming, and I feel some relief in that. But for the moment, I am just trying to survive. I just want this to end.

It bothers me _so_ much—it _kills_ me—that he has the same body of my lover and that he is treating me with such violence.

Wait. He _is_ my lover. This is the form Rai _wants_. He is doing _exactly_ what he desires. Therefore, shouldn’t I, if I really want to atone for having broken my promise, relax and let him do whatever he likes to me? Completely submit to his desires? Even if it kills me?

These thoughts race through my foggy brain as I am choked, as I watch his face soften, and then as he finds his pleasure—he starts to pant a little faster, sighing louder, and then suddenly growls like a beast. It makes my fur stand up, and my own dick hardens and drips on the floor in response to his pleasure—and possibly because—I am still choking.

I feel him release into my throat—and I purr in response. It’s a vulgar, wet-sounding purr, and I sigh and gasp as well when he finally releases my collar. It feels so good to have air come back into my lungs, and my jaw is sore and tired like it might have been dislocated, and my tongue and lips are numb, but my cock is tingling and erect, throbbing in time with my heartbeat, longing for attention.

As I swallow his come, I realize something weird is happening to my body. It isn’t just excessively aroused, but it’s also responding strangely to pain. I feel as though I _crave_ it. Is it because I feel it’s what I deserve? Is that the result of swallowing his come? Or is this my own realization?

But I am heavily aroused—beyond relief, and my hands now disconnect from him and rest on my own knees for a moment, dangerously close to my own throbbing dick. My stomach is pulling painfully, and I am dying to be touched.

“Did I please you, master?” I ask softly, barely able to recognize my own voice while keeping my face pointed down at his boots, I allow my eyes to glance up at his relaxed face.

“You did very well, little Sanga,” and my ears are brushed. “Come.”

He grabs my collar once more, and I wince when the collar touches my bruised neck, and he drags me back to the bed, pulling me up to the bed with him. I’m hoping he will relieve me now, but he does no such thing. I would love for him to enter me even without preparation. But instead, he curls his body up behind mine and pulls me against his chest. His hands linger around my waist and hips, caressing me lightly, and I moan when he lightly brushes just the tip of my cock.

“Does it hurt?”

I moan in response before words can come out.

“It does. Please, won’t you—?”

But I don’t get a chance to finish my request. The demon brushes me again lightly, and then rubs the fur below my belly, caressing it with his claws.

“It pleases me to see you suffer for my sake. You suffer so beautifully, you see. Sometimes I will ask you to suffer just for my sake, understand, sweet Sanga,” he murmurs in my ear.

My body starts to tremble and shake, and a sob escapes my throat.

“But please—" 

“Kitten, it won’t be forever,” the demon brushes my ears softly as though to comfort me, but my body quivers painfully.

I crumple in on myself and start to cry bitterly. My abdomen pulls painfully, and I let one of my hands skate down my side gently. It’s so close to my groin that I allow it to touch my painfully aroused cock, and just brushing it sends such pleasure through my body that I shudder, and a lewd sigh escapes.

But at the same time, my ass is smacked—hard—by the demon in the bed behind me, making me cry out loud. It hurts—sending pain shimmering across the welted skin and into my groin. 

“What did I just tell you? About suffering for my sake? You will _wait_. And suffer patiently and beautifully for me. Cry tears if you must, but do not touch yourself when I have forbidden it.” 

I do cry—and not in bitterness. These are tears of regret. I know now why he is punishing me, and I feel I deserve it. My ear is licked and even that sends a shudder of delight down my back and shoulders. A vulgar moan escapes my mouth, and I hear a small chuckle.

“You are in quite a state, little one. I haven’t even touched you. I could, you know—and that would make it so much worse. So just wait patiently till I release you. It’s the very least you can do.” 

“I know,” I whisper, filled with guilt. Why didn’t I kill him? I _couldn’t_. I couldn’t bring myself to do it! Some part of me thought that my Touga was still in there—and perhaps he is. This is what he desired—and this is what he currently wants from me. And I continue to suffer—feeling his grooming touch on my ears—each lick making me want more than that.

Desperately, I try to keep myself from pleading and begging. I keep my lips pressed closed, feeling my body sweat, noticing my scent becoming stronger. Time passes so slowly—and eventually, he turns me around in his arms, puts a hand on my chin and says, “All right. Kneel up. Right here, over my legs.” 

My fur bristles and I obey immediately—hopefully. But he doesn’t move from his position. I kneel up over his thighs, but still too far to rub against his body even if I lean forward. I’m very aroused—so aroused that my embarrassment has faded. My heart rate has picked up.

“All right, kitten. I want to watch you.”  
  
Widening my eyes in surprise, I tilt my head, confused. I’m afraid I might know what he means, and it frightens me.

“Go ahead. You want release, don’t you? So, touch yourself.”

Like this? I’m right before him—nude—and I can feel the leather of his pants, sticky against the insides of my knees, and his legs are close together, and my tail is fluffy and bristled, but it’s waving back and forth wantonly.

“If you disobey, I will make you wait even longer.”

“Th-thank y-you,” I whisper, looking down at his legs—they are gorgeous in that shiny black leather, and then I start moving my hands. 

“No, I don’t think so, kitten. _Look_ at me when you do it.” My chin is nudged slightly, making me raise my gaze, and heat floods my cheeks and ears. “Ah, adorable. You still blush, even though you want it so much? Do you need more from me, I wonder?” 

He reaches around my back with one long arm, and I feel him stroking me gently—the edge of the wound in my back—and a claw enters it. I flinch, lowering my body in pain, sitting down abruptly on his knees and crying out.

“ _Please_ —don’t,” I whisper, begging him softly.

“This will help you,” he says, touching my chin gently with the other hand, and I feel something leaking from his claw into my wound—and it both burns and freezes my insides—and courses through my body at the same time. Some strange, dark power floods my body—it’s not my own, and it’s dark magic— _his_ dark magic—and once the burning pain subsides, it feels _good_. I can’t suppress a sigh—and I look up in surprise.

“Don’t you feel a little better now? I’d hate to have to punish you more. You are suffering so much—and so beautifully—right now. So now, comply with my demand. Kneel up and relieve your suffering.”

I raise myself up to my knees, and I keep my eyes on his face—so strange but so erotic—that smile—and I feel aroused and excited. My hand hardly feels like my own as I allow it to brush down my stomach and belly to the fur below it, and I brush my cock. I sigh with relief when I touch myself. 

My other hand wanders to my tail, drawing claws and combing through the fur, all the way out to the tip. I pinch it slightly and then bring it up to my mouth to suck on it. I lower my face just a little and then look up at Rai’s face through my lashes.

“Such a pretty thing.” 

It almost hurts to touch myself I am so aroused. When I do touch myself, I end up trying to squeeze my legs together, but they don’t move since they are on the outsides of the demon’s legs. And he spreads his legs just a little, making me gasp and feel a little more exposed. I do manage to wrap my fingers around my shaft and then touch the rim. My breathing is so fast I can hardly get enough air.

“Look at me—open your eyes. I want to see you.” 

I obey—I hadn’t realized I had closed them. Then, I press the thumb into the tip, purring in satisfaction. I feel his large hand caressing my ass—welted skin and all. It hurts when he touches the injured skin, and I flinch—but even that makes me more aroused, and I gasp in pleasure, much to my surprise.

“What an interesting development,” he murmurs softly. “Your training is working well in your favor. Keep going, kitten.”

Moving my hand slowly, sparkles glitter across my sight and I shiver with pleasure, a growl leaks from my mouth. It’s wonderful. His hands are both on my ass now, spreading my cheeks gently, and I feel his fingers skate across my entrance dangerously—making me gasp. His claws are drawn and they frighten and arouse me, making my body tremble.

He wides his legs a little more, lowering my body when I have to spread my legs more, too, my fur fluffing out.

“Don’t stop,” he commands. 

I meow—an actual meow—when I press my thumb into the tip again, and precome spills out, making my strokes much smoother. Feeling the demon’s hands stroking over top of my entrance makes me shiver and growl. I’m getting so close, and my panting sighs quicken and get louder.

My breath starts to stutter and my eyes close—and I hear the demon growl at me.

“ _Look_ at me, kitten. Open your eyes.” 

I strain to open my eyes and peer at his face, desperate to relieved, desperate to just come. And my thoughts go completely blank for a moment—just like always. And just then—as the pleasure starts to surge throughout my body and I gasp in delight—I feel an intrusive invasion at my entrance. I shiver and shudder—it’s painful to suddenly have two fingers shoved inside me! But because of _when_ he does it, it feels strangely… good?

What is this? What is happening to my body? 

I almost scream in pleasure—the confused feelings mix together, pleasure wins out over pain, and the pain combines with pleasure, spilling into an intense, overwhelming feeling of pleasure, which overtakes my senses. I can feel it, hear it, see it, even taste it in my saliva. And it feels like his fingers leave something inside me, too—I can’t describe what it is—but some sort of instinctual, foreign, animalistic joy or indulgence I haven’t experienced before. 

I am left gasping for air, and he has to support my hips and my body when I collapse on top of him. But I realize soon that tears cover my face, and I am sobbing quietly.

“Shh, it’s all right, little Sanga. You pleased me. You did very well. I’m so proud of you. You’re safe with me here—you will always be with me. Relax and sleep, now.” He almost sounds like my Touga, and that makes this even more painful.

My body is lifted up from his lap—sweaty and sticky and exhausted—and pulled against his chest. And he grooms my ears gently. It’s a tender gesture—one left from when he was still a cat.

I try to quiet my tears and my sobs and find I cannot. These tears insist on falling. I am grieving—for Rai. For my cat, Rai.

“It’s all right. I’m right here. I’ll never leave you,” whispers the demon. That thought and this devil—both terrify me. 


	5. Painful Pleasure or Pleasurable Pain?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konoe wakes alone in the room. He is filled with anxiety and the desire to make something of this new life and he comes up with a great idea to tempt the devil creature. He escapes the room he's been left in, only to confront a larger problem: The devil already has Konoe's only bargaining chip.
> 
> Triggers, triggers, triggers. This chapter is very angsty and horrible--and Konoe is losing his mind here (or becoming another creature--Rai's servant). Please be forewarned that the punishment is really cruel and the sex is really, really non-con.

What does he do when he isn’t with me, I wonder? When I wake again, he’s no longer next to me. Why does it feel like I miss him? And why do I wake so exhausted? It’s as though my body isn’t getting the rest it needs when I sleep. Have I eaten anything—besides whatever Rai has been injecting me with—since I’ve been here? How can I still be alive? I haven’t even had water.

Even the thought of water sounds wonderful to me. A cold liquid sliding down my throat, wetting my lips and tongue, soothing me. It would be really nice. But as much as I crave it, I don’t feel like I really need it—like my body requires it.

I've spent a lot of time in this room and alone. After our last meeting, I felt something inside my body shift. I’m still terrified of this devil who looks so much like Rai. But there is something like a desire for him—a fierce desire—that won’t be denied. When I think about what I did and how I behaved, how I acted in front of him, I’m slightly ashamed of myself. In Sisa, I _never_ would have made such a display. But I hadn’t ever felt so quite desperate, either.

And I feel I _should_ be sated by now—my desire quenched—and yet, my body is not content. Even when I run my thoughts over other things—whether I might be able to live here and adapt, whether we are stuck here forever, and whether it would have been better to die together—I can’t get the feeling of the demon's hands from my skin. And it’s odd since he punished me.

It’s been a long time since he’s been here, though. I have been waiting a long while. I stand up from the bed and explore the room. The interior is dark, but once my eyes have grown accustomed to the darkness, I realize the bedsheets are red, and the plush rug on the floor is red as well. It’s lusciously decorated—for hell, anyway.

 _Is_ this hell? My punishment for not keeping my promise to Rai? Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I examine the skin on the back of my thighs and my ass. It’s striped with thin red welts. Simply touching those welts brings a shiver of pain—and the shiver of pain brings with it a surprising burst of strange arousal. What _is_ that feeling? I’ve never felt this way before. Is it something the devil has done to me?

In the mirror, I look tired but I still look like a cat. I still have fur—white with caramel tips—which needs to be groomed—and fluffy ears, which twitch when I peer at myself. With the collar around my neck and wrists, I look obscene, however. I tug at them listlessly for a moment, but they won’t budge.

I examine my arms where the markings of the curse used to be—and my skin is pure and creamy. However, when I look closely at my ankles, the left ankle has a slight shadow. What is that? I sit down on the rug, wincing as the plush carpet brushes against my ass, and pull my leg into my lap. I feel it with my fingers and it feels smooth. Is the darkness around my skin simply my imagination?

Standing up impatiently, I pace the floor. I am suddenly quite aware of my nudity, so I look around for my clothes. I find my underwear—and nothing else—so I slip them on, wincing as I do. However, I realize they aren’t mine the moment they touch my skin. They _look_ just like mine—but these are silk, luxurious and soft, and very distracting. I don’t own any silk. It’s confusing. 

Pacing the floor a little more, I try to gather my thoughts. Perhaps the demon will treat me as an equal if I agree to love him. I consider making this offer. I think—if I can remember the parts of him that are Rai—I think I could honestly agree to this. And he’s a devil, after all. I think he would make a contract with me if I asked.

I even plan out what to say in advance, wishing I had the rest of my clothes and that I could lose the collar when I make this proposal to boost my confidence. I think it will please him. I just wish I had a little more confidence—and clothing would certainly help.

But the devil Rai doesn’t return. It frightens me.

Against my better judgment, I pad over to the door. Nervous that he might make his appearance at any time, I hesitate before touching the doorknob. To my utter surprise, it’s unlocked, and the door creaks open. It leads into that long hallway.

What is _really_ keeping me here? In this room? I want to be an equal and a partner—and I want to learn to love him. I think it’s a good proposal, and I feel my heart lighten when I step outside to find my Touga—or what he has become.

Walking down the hall, the dim light from my room fades to black. I’ve never been able to see well in the dark, but I keep going, keeping my hand on the wall, feeling several doors underneath my fingers as I pass. There is no light coming from any of the doors, however. It’s a little spooky. What are all these rooms for, I wonder?

Finally, I reach the end of the hall. I still don’t see light under the door, but instead of checking each door, as I should have, I simply try this door’s handle. It’s heavy and metal, unlike the wood door in the room I was being kept in. As I push the door open, my heart races—thumping loud and nervously in my ears. I’m relieved when a pale light floods my bare feet. I can breathe a little easier. The light reminds me of a guiding leaf at first—a soft pale green glow—but as I continue down this corridor, it becomes brighter and brighter, flickering like a flame.

My fur bristles when I see where the light's source. I’ve entered a large room, with only a few pieces of furniture—a large chair, a table, an hourglass dripping sand slowly—and a huge green flame, flickering in the corner. I recognize it as Froud’s flame—the one each devil emerged from when I met them in the Field of Four Colors. I reflexively shrink away—even knowing Froud isn’t here. In a way, it’s more terrifying—knowing the new devil I am facing.

“What are you doing out of your room?” That oddly husky voice sounds from the center of the room. The devil is lounging in his chair, posture relaxed and slumped. It's offputting to see him sitting like this since _my_ Rai sat up straight most of the time. He never "lounged." I swallow at the sound of his voice. It makes me shiver—but it’s oddly familiar and attractive, despite missing its usually distinguished and rational tone.

“I came to find you.”

“I can see that. However, I did not give you permission to leave that room.” His non-existence gaze seems to take me in. “Nor did I give you permission to get dressed.”

“I thought you left these for me?” I ask, slightly concerned. My confidence is wavering. He’s a devil—he _has_ to make deals, doesn't he? I can't lose my nerve at this point.

“Perhaps—to tempt you—to see if you would submit and obey or rebel. Seems you have chosen the more difficult route.”He smiles thinly, that black tail thumping heavily against the chair.

“N-no,” I protest. “This is not rebellion. I’ve come to make a deal.”

“A deal? And you think you have something with which to bargain?”

I swallow again nervously, my fur stiffening slightly.

“I do. I want to offer myself to you—I want to try to _love_ you—in exchange for being your equal and your partner.” I exhale deeply with some relief after these words tumble from my lips. Yet his response surprises me.

Warm laughter shakes the air in the room—and it’s an unusual sound. It’s not the terrifying, manic sound I’d hear during battle, either. This sounds like he is truly amused. That’s even more disturbing.

“Is something amusing?” I ask, keeping my voice quiet.

“Kitten, you are already mine. I could devour your soul—but I’ve chosen to keep you by my side, to care for you. But you are not and will never be my equal.”

My ears lower.

“B-but I will try—”

“You will try anything I tell you to try because you are my slave. I _own_ you. You are _mine_ , Konoe.” Rai’s smile neutralizes into a cooler expression. “This is an act of rebellion after I’ve asked you to submit.”

His words are a shock to my system, and I shudder with fear—and something that feels both revoltingly and enticingly like anticipation. What is _happening_ to me?  
  
“Your transition is already occurring—slowly. You are a slow learner, which I expected. I don’t mind playing these games with you.”

“I’m not playing a game!” I burst out angrily. I’m frustrated! “I want to make a deal! You’re a devil. Isn’t that what you do? Make deals?” 

He sighs heavily—a bored sound.

“Possibly what I _would_ have done if there were any souls in Sisa left with which to bargain. In the meantime, what will you do to demonstrate your repentance for this foolish act of rebellion?” 

“I want—” My words are interrupted when he leaps up from his chair and takes several long strides over to me. His steps are silent, but his feet are touching the floor.

“I know your desires better than you do. You lie to yourself, Konoe. You _already_ love me. There is no deal to be made. The question remains, what will you do to satisfy my urge to punish you?”

“P-punish?” I echo, and the welts on my ass are tingling underneath the silk fabric of the underwear. My body starts to sweat and I try to back away, but a smoky sash appears out of nowhere and grabs my collar. My body is pulled in close to the devil’s—close enough to feel the heat rising from his body. I feel like a butterfly trapped in a spider’s web, and I’m afraid.

“Please,” I beg softly. “Please don’t hurt me. I-i w-want to submit!”

“If that were true, you’d be waiting for me obediently in your room. As you haven’t chosen that path, I feel rebellion in your entire being. It’s enchanting.”

“I-i’m s-sorry,” I try again, pleading. “I d-didn’t know!” 

“I’ll tell you what,” he says, thoughtfully grabbing his chin. “If you can escape my grasp for fifteen minutes, I’ll allow you to escape the punishment you have coming to you.”

I twitch my ears and tail. What kind of game is this?  
  
“Think of it as hide and seek—only with dire consequences. I’ll give you a minute head start.”

“I-i d-don’t w-want to,” I whisper. It sounds horrifying.

“Do you think you can handle a belt over these welts? Because that is the dire consequence you are escaping.” He purrs in my ear, stroking the back of my thigh with gloved fingers.

A belt? _Oh, shit._  

“N-no—please!” I beg, tears brimming.

“Fifty seconds, kitten. Run. _Hide._ ”

I don’t delay. I run from the room as fast as my legs will carry me. The shackles on my wrists make a lot of noise. I tear across the room, down the dim corridor, sprinting toward the dark hallway. Running as fast as I can, I am well into the dark hall when I trip over my feet in the darkness. I get up quickly, though. I _have_ to hide!

After hauling myself to my feet, I struggle with each doorknob and handle—and after the fourth try, I find one that opens. My heart is throbbing in my throat now, and I am horrendously afraid.

The room I’ve entered looks like the mirror image of the one I was being held in. I slide my body under the bed and wait, my entire body shaking with fear, my pulse pounding in my ears—so loud I can hardly hear anything around me. It occurs to me that even if my heart weren’t racing, I probably wouldn’t be able to hear the devil coming. All I have to do is hide for fifteen minutes—

_What am I doing? Why am I even playing this game?_

As I lie on the floor, my tail wrapped around my shivering body, my thoughts race. What happened to my plan? I had our talk planned out—I had a deal, one I thought he couldn’t resist. And yet it went terribly wrong.

The floor under the bed feels strange—not like wood or stone—as I draw my claws. They press in easily, like it has a little give. It’s a foreign sensation—one I felt when I visited the devils before. This is eerie. I can’t believe I made it so far and managed to confront Leaks only to end up _here_.

What choice do I have now? Should I simply reveal myself? As soon as I do, I will no longer suffer this unbearable tension. And I can’t tell time. I’ve been alone, hiding in this room, and time seems to pass very slowly. But I can’t really tell since my fear is blinding me.

Suddenly—the door creaks open. My heart races even faster, and I see black boots approaching the bed from where I am lying on the floor. I don’t move and I hold my breath, and his feet slowly disappear from my sight. They don’t make a sound when he walks across the floor. Even mine pad quietly against the soft squishy texture of the bare floor and the rugs.  
  
Once his boots leave my line of sight, my fear skyrockets to panic. I know he’s still in the room, though I can’t see him or hear him—but I sense that he is here. If I move even a little, he will hear me, and I have a sinking suspicion that he already knows where I am, and he is playing this game to increase my terror.

I don’t want to be afraid of him—but I am.

My mouth is dry, my fur bristles, and I try to dig my claws into the floor below me—and the moment my claws dig in, I feel a gloved hand wrap around my bare ankle. It grasps me hard—from behind—and pulls my body out from underneath the bed. I cry out in alarm, my claws aching when they scratch across that strange foreign surface of the floor.

A part of me wonders if he can see me better now than he could before he lost his remaining eye. It’s like echolocation without the sound—using something else—my body heat or my scent—that draws me to him.

“I’ve found you, I’m afraid,” the low, husky voice murmurs.

I stay face down on the floor, my claws dig in deep.

“Get away from me!” I shout, but even I know my resistance is useless.

“You need to be more honest with yourself. _You_ came to find _me_ , didn’t you? You sought me out. You rebelled against me because you _wanted_ to see me. You risked punishment for this. Don’t you think you should reap what you sow?”

Goosebumps shiver across my body when I’m pulled up into the bed on my stomach, my legs hanging off the side of the mattress. My tail bristles and I try to kick him, but he’s already leaning heavily against me.

“Get off of me!” I cry.

“I don’t think so,” he replies smoothly—and his voice is almost soothing. It feels strange, like a balm to my spirit. “If you had waited for me, this wouldn’t have to happen.”

“I had a deal for you—a good deal—”

“It’s meaningless, Konoe. Aren’t you my Sanga?” My heart freezes when I hear those words. I can’t speak or reply, and he prompts me. “Well? Aren’t you?”

“Y-yes,” I mutter quietly into the mattress.

“You are here because I saved you—from Leaks. From a dying world. You are here at my pleasure and to serve me. Our bond still remains. You feel it, don’t you?”

His hands stroke me gently—one incredibly close to what should have been a fatal wound. He inserts his finger and something else happens to my body—something flows into me, similar to emotions—and this is burning cold and wicked. But it feels so good—I feel _elation_. My body relaxes and a gasping, purring sigh escapes my mouth on reflex. I can’t form proper thoughts and my mouth fills with saliva. My lower half also fills with blood in an instant—from whatever wicked sensation this is.

“Please…” I beg—but even I don’t know what I am begging for.

“You feel that, don’t you? I know what it is you want. What you crave.”

The air around my body feels like it’s become thick and viscous, almost as though the room has filled with steam—but this is _power_ I am feeling—not exactly within me, but existing outside of me and flowing within. The devil’s presence is overwhelming me now—and I can’t seem to move or defend myself.

Leather gloves catch on the downy fur undercoat at the base of my tail, making it twitch and sway. I can’t help myself. My body feels helpless, as though my will has been taken from me. It’s not exactly like that, though—it’s more like an _urge_ to submit to this devil’s touch and overwhelming power. And as frightening as that is, I can’t resist. Each time those fingers claw through my fur, I want _more_. I _crave_ more.

It’s hot and stifling, too, making me feel trapped within my own skin. My hands pull at the collar around my neck—it feels tight and I’m afraid I might choke. As soon as my fingers hook under the collar, it’s pulled from behind, lifting my torso up from the bed and squeezing my windpipe—and that—while terrifying—sends a shock of  _pleasure_ to my lower half.  
  
The sounds escaping my mouth is pleading and begging—but I’m not begging to be released. I’m begging for relief and more stimulation.

My thoughts are slow and sticky, yet race with the images of the past day or so since I have been here. Our battle, when he disarmed me, every time he fucked me or disciplined me—and those two, the fucking and the discipline, blend together to unfathomable pleasure. 

_I want him._

Inside the depths of my heart, I realize that the deal I’d so cleverly come up with is indeed futile. Because I already desire him. I already love him—just as he is—and I will do _anything_ to please him. As I’m coming to these realizations—these strange revelations that I couldn’t admit earlier—my ankle scorches as though burned with hot oil. I recognize the feeling. It’s exactly like when the other cursed markings appeared. What is happening to me? What is happening to my body?

My collar is released and my lungs flood with air. I hear another soft sigh behind me, and my left ankle is brushed lightly. 

“Does it hurt?” The question is posed in a tender voice—a loving voice—though I know he is the source of that burning pain.

“Please,” I beg again. I feel his lips approaching my ear, licking it softly.

“Submit.”

Shivering at the sound of the whisper, I take a deep breath—in and out—and revel in the pain for a moment. It’s closer now to painful pleasure than pleasurable pain.

“My precious Sanga,” he whispers, and the words melt into my ears and into my heart—and I _miss_ him. I miss _Rai_ —my Touga—his strength and confidence and his level-headedness gaze. My heart is breaking and it makes me suffer. Tears spill down my cheeks and a sob escapes my mouth.

“Rai…” I whisper—pleading with him—as though calling his name might bring him back to me.

My nape is licked and nipped, my shoulder is bitten and soothed with a kiss—and I can hear him purring loudly behind me. I want to ask what is happening to me, what he is doing to me—but all I feel from him is terrifying tenderness. He’s stroking my back, my sides, my waist, my welted behind through my underwear, my thighs—drawing his claws slightly. Even when he touches my injured skin, I can’t help wanting more.

But what I really want is gone.

“Please.” I try begging through tears, and the touching continues. I understand that he will do as he likes, and it’s my place to submit. That is my role here—my function and purpose—just like my role as a Sanga was my function in the world of Sisa.

There is a part of me—deep inside my mind and my body—that is struggling and resisting all of this, despite whatever liquid is that he has spilled inside me, despite that branded mark on my ankle—which I understand indicates my submission to him and his ownership of me. I cannot repress those feelings or make them disappear, but they aren’t strong enough to overpower this new, strange magic flowing through my veins. 

Fingers hook under the waistband of my underwear, pushing them down over my hips, slowly—deliberately—as though he is enjoying the sensation of my skin and the heat that still is coming from where he’s punished me earlier. I bristle in terror, understanding now that I am about to receive another punishment, and I quake with fear. My tears have no effect in ameliorating this demon and if anything, they incite him further, as he licks them from my cheeks.

“You taste so sweet,” he purrs gently. “Submit your feelings to me, kitten—submit all of yourself to me.” 

I want to give in to him—my body is begging me to—and in between my quiet sobs, loud purring sighs escape when he strokes my tail. His touch makes me arch my back, pushing back into his hand, standing up on my tiptoes and pressing off the floor. But I am petrified by what is to come.

“Please—don’t hurt me?” I beseech quietly.

“We’ve discussed this already, precious Sanga. I want a submissive kitten who knows his place, and you’ve disobeyed me. As I’ve said, when you don’t comply with my commands, a painful physical reminder will be effective in modifying your behavior.”  
  
A shudder travels from my ears down my shoulders and into my spine. I flatten my feet to the floor—and try to keep them there. But with each gentle stroke to my tail, I’m arching my back and pressing up toward that hand once again that is surely about to inflict pain on my body.

“Consider this for a moment,” he whispers softly.

I should run from this. I should fight him to the death to maintain my sense of self. My will to survive should be kicking in right now. And what about my promise? I don’t want him to punish me, and I’m afraid of what will happen to my body if it receives any additional painful stimulation with the state my mind is in right now.

However, deep in my heart, a desire to please him has blossomed. This is not a desire to please _Rai_ , the silver Touga who saved me from those bandits in the woods. This is a desire to please this _devil_ —regardless of what will happen to me. I would die—sacrifice myself—to please him, even if it were just on his whim.

Those feelings—they feel like they are deep within me and belong to me—they scare me. Because I know these are not my own thoughts. They are not my own beliefs. They can’t be! If I truly felt like I would die for this creature, I would have obeyed in the first place.

Then something in my slow-moving brain clicks. 

Did I seek him out on purpose? Did I disobey on purpose—in order that he would have an excuse to punish me as he saw fit? Is that why I left the room? Perhaps it wasn’t about the ridiculous deal at all, but these feelings in my heart calling out to this monstrous creature wearing my lover’s face and emitting my lover’s scent, wanting him, wanting to please him and show him my desire and love for him—my willingness to submit to anything he wants to do to me.

I’m horrified by these thoughts.

“Much better. You are learning faster than I thought, kitten. Now—you will remain here, just as you are, won’t you? Stay submissive and obedient, and accept the consequences of your actions.”

He moves off my body for a moment—and just for a moment—that split second when he isn’t touching me, I feel like myself. I realize this is crazy. I must have been drugged by whatever magic he is using and he is _changing_ me to fit his will, shaping me and training me into what he desires. A furious rage blooms in my chest and I want to resist and fight—and I _can’t_.

It’s like I’m two cats—my original self: Konoe of Karou, Rai’s Sanga who loved him and would have died for him, with my strong will and opinions and my unwillingness to submit to anything I don’t desire—and also something different: this demon’s servant Konoe, who may be on his way to becoming a devil or something other than a cat. This creature is willing to put his own wellbeing aside for the whims of a crazy devil.

Are those two creatures really so different, though? The Sanga and the servant? Both are willing to die for their master. One is slightly more stubborn than the other, perhaps—and yet…

A metallic clink rings in my ears like an alarm—bringing me out of my thoughts and back to where I am right now.

“Don’t think too much about it,” the demon murmurs soothingly. “Instead, look at what’s in front of you.”

With those words, I feel something pressed up against my ass—it feels smooth and cool, strangely soothing. It’s a leather belt. My chest clenches up in fear and the muscles in my thighs, lower legs, and ass stiffen. I also dig my toes into the carpet beneath my feet and whimper softly.

“No—just relax. It’s much better if you relax. You can’t fight this, kitten.”

My soft whimper changes to tears—as I anticipate the pain from the strap. It feels like it’s folded in half—but over the welts from the cane, it is going to sting more than I can possibly imagine. Fearful tears turn into sobs, my breath hitching in my chest and my claws digging into the mattress beneath me. 

But I don’t fight. I relax my muscles, taking a long, quivering exhale—and I hear him sigh with satisfaction when I do.

Then, the cool feeling disappears from my skin and a loud sound cracks in my ears. It’s much louder than I expect and it startles me, despite my anticipation. And the pain from the first blow is much crueler than I could have ever imagined. It hurts—of course, it hurts—but the pain in my heart, the despair I feel, threatens to take me over entirely.

As soon as I can catch my breath, I cry out in response, interrupting my sobs and tears. Pain shivers across the center of my cheeks—and I realize that is not even my most sensitive area. Fear rises in me when I hear the second snap of the belt and it connects with my sit spot. That blow makes me raise up on my toes and press myself against the bed.

It hurts so much I can scarcely even force out a cry—and when I do get it out of my lungs, the next crack sounds in my ears.

This is _Rai_. This is my _Touga_ —my lover, my friend, my companion—who is making me suffer like this. After the tenderness we shared before, the physical pain pales in comparison to the heartbreak I am suffering, and I feel like I might go crazy from grief.

The fourth blow lands on my upper thighs, crossing over the welts already left by the cane. My knees buckle and I gasp in pain.  
  
However, when the fifth blow connects with my sit spot again, the pain that shivers through my body is accompanied by another feeling—a _disturbing_ feeling—and my cock stiffens unexpectedly in excitement.

Something is happening to my body—almost as though sexual arousal is being pulled out of my body along with this punishment—pulled to the surface, and not _despite_ the painful stimulation but _because_ of it.

A sixth snap cracks against my upper thighs—making my tail bristle and shake—and in addition to the painful cry from my mouth,  _pleasure_ courses through my body. It’s unbearable—to feel sexual arousal, pain, despair, hopelessness all at once—at the hands of my lover.

But I can’t help how my body is responding, despite how much I hate it. I am expecting another crack as I’m sobbing in pain and writhing in pleasure—but instead, I feel the tender touch of a hand, caressing my now soundly punished behind and thighs. I submit in an instant—no hesitation, gasping out loud at the touch as though the sound too was pulled from my body. Fingers slip between my thighs and brush upward to my ass, and I feel claws brushing over the top of my entrance.

My body is quivering and shaking—and there is breathy sound coming from my lips that I don’t understand or want to understand. It’s an awful, pleading mewling noise. My tail lifts itself up as though offering myself to the demon who is punishing me, and I feel his satisfaction coursing through him and flowing into me.

“You are _learning,_ ” he growls low—and without delay, he spreads my cheeks and enters me in one single thrust. 

I feel like I am being torn asunder—at first, it’s incredibly painful—and at the same time, I want nothing more than to feel him inside me, to connect with him—as though he really _is_ my master and I am his slave. I want nothing more than to feel him—even if that feeling is pain. The pain itself is pleasurable, and I cry out—tears still leaking from my eyes instinctively. I can scarcely breathe, even still.

“Gods—please—please—Rai…” I am begging for him—begging for him to take me and love me, begging for him to ravish my body, to give me the punishment I deserve for failing him so horribly. Instead of blood flowing through my body, every inch of me is filled with despair, regret, and an indescribable desire to be taken by this creature. I feel like something else—like a beast.

He doesn’t wait for me to adjust and roughly thrusts in and out of me repeatedly—wrapping one hand around the base of my tail to pull my ass up a little higher and the other wrapping around my now dripping cock. I gasp when I feel his fingers and rub my face into the sheets—wishing to be defeated and conquered. I could die like this. I would be happy to die here—I want to die here—at his hands, while he is fucking me.

These feelings of regret and despair and desire swirling inside me need a release as much as I need my own climax. They search for an outlet and find it—in song. Against my will and quite unexpectedly, my flesh and bones begin to vibrate with a dark, bitter melody—one of despair and discouragement—and one that is marked with love and tenderness.

My fur and hair spark with energy—as though filled with static electricity—and the demon gasps behind me in pleasure.

“My precious Sanga.”

My tail is bitten hard at the tip as it is trapped in place—and I feel like my heart and soul are being fucked, once this song is vibrating in the space around us. Light fills the darkness—but it’s a reddish glow, one I have never seen from my song before, not the usual golden light I emit as a Sanga. I close my eyes and let myself be washed away with these feelings of guilt and pleasure, and I let myself come.

I cry out loud when I do, purring and sobbing in addition to crying out in a pleasured moan—and I feel Rai following me—and I am thankful. I am finished. I feel completely finished and taken.

When he spills his seed inside my body, yet another rush of that pleasurable pain rushes through my body, almost like a second climax—making me shiver and shake with another kind of desire altogether.

I mourn the loss of my former self.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot begin to describe the relief I feel in posting this chapter. It's better than getting rid of an earworm, seriously--getting rid of this story that has been plaguing me for so long. That being said--please don't hate me. ;)
> 
> Read the Gladiators or Surfer fic if you need a fluffy fix.


	6. Bloodlust and Power Exchange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The demon introduces a new style of relating to Konoe--in order to assist with his transition to this new life.
> 
> Konoe is nervous about it at first but submits, leaving a little more self-control and power in the hands of this new version of Rai.
> 
> Triggers: bad BDSM behavior (he's a fucking devil), angst, forced grooming.

“Today, we will be trying something a little different.”

The devil makes the announcement suddenly, startling me, as no words have been spoken since I’ve woken up—still naked, still in his arms. I think I was sleeping, and he was grooming me. He’s spoken directly into my ear. I already feel those two cats getting ready to go to war inside me, and my heart throbs painfully when his voice sinks into my ear.

“Different? What do you mean?” I ask.

“As you will be remaining here with me as my servant, I’d like to suggest a small change in our relationship. It’s effective in ensuring your obedience and train you for your role here. And it will help settle you. You seem terribly anxious.”

 _Anxious_? What the hell?  _That’s_ the understatement of the year. I am _terrified_ —but truthfully, I have a _right_ to be afraid. He’s a fucking _devil_!

“What kind of change?” I ask, unable to keep the suspicion out of my tone. But I can’t seem to hide my desire either.

“It’s a total power exchange.” The words sound simple enough, but of course, I don’t understand the meaning.

“Which means?”

“I lay down the law and you will follow, according to my rules, modifying your conduct.”

“Um, okay?” Really, I need more information. It doesn’t sound different from what he expects from me already. Is it just a name for what we are already doing?

“For example, I might expect you to greet me a specific way each time you see me—on your knees, for example, as I showed you. When we share a meal, you would serve me and wait for me to take the first bite before eating your own food. Your body is here for my use and pleasure alone—you will not even touch yourself without my express permission.”

A small shiver travels through my body when I hear these ideas. I can't tell if it's fear or desire that the shiver indicates.

“Why would I agree to something like that?”

“Well, kitten,” his voice is smoother than silk, still spoken low in my ear, “you’d agree because it would be _good_ for you— _healthy_ for you—and it would save you from punishment.”

“Punishment that you will mete out either way?” I say, a snarky tone in my voice. “No thanks.” Those words belong to Konoe of Karou, for sure.

I feel a gloved hand on my bare bottom—stroking the skin softly and touching the welts on my ass.

“If I deem it desirable to punish you, yes.”

“So why would I agree to anything like that? What’s in it for me?”

“Ah, the wrong question for a slave to be asking, kitten. You’re stuck with me, aren’t you? Wouldn’t it be easier to understand my expectations in advance rather than risk disappointing me and being punished because you didn't know what I wanted?” 

He’s got a point. I swallow, and my mouth feels a little dry. I sigh softly.

“What exactly are your expectations?” I ask softly.

“I don’t think it would be wise to tell you everything up front. You learn much more thoroughly on the fly. To start, do you remember how I asked you to greet me?”

My body stiffens slightly. I don’t feel like getting out of bed—but I nod my head.

“Do you want me to do it now?” I ask, my voice still soft.

“Unless you’d rather suffer a punishment. I do worry, however... You aren’t healing as fast as I would like. I suspect that ability will grow in accordance with your submission. I'd hate to damage you permanently before that happens, simply because you can’t find it in yourself to obey me.”

As much as I’d rather stay right where I am, I comply. I crawl out of bed and kneel down on the floor, keeping my face lowered. Humiliation washes over me. Can he even see me? What’s the point of doing this if he can’t see me?

I should know better—it took him less than five minutes to find me while I was hiding yesterday or last night or whenever that was. Maybe he can smell my scent? Echolocation? Something else?

I feel a gloved hand stroking my ears.

“Good job, kitten. I wasn’t sure you’d submit so easily.”

Strangely—the sound of his praise eases my heart.

“Now, if I’m in the bedroom with you, you will remain on your knees until I tell you otherwise.”

I nod my head. I almost feel like I should call him “sir,” but I keep my voice quiet.

“You’re doing very well. This is a _relaxing_ position for you. You can rely on me to see to _all_ your needs. I will see to all aspects of your care. You don’t need to worry about anything except doing what you’re told.”

Unexpectedly, Konoe of Karou makes another silent appearance at the devil’s words. My fur bristles thickly on my ears and tail.

“Oh, I see. Do you dislike being told what to do? You should be more honest with yourself. It will absolve a lot of your anxiety, kitten. You will be rewarded for your obedience. I also believe in positive feedback.”

I lift my eyes briefly without moving my head. What _kind_ of positive feedback, I wonder? And also, how well can he see me _exactly_?

“Unfortunately, you can’t even manage to stay in position at this point. That’s disappointing.”

His words strike me right in the chest, and I drop my gaze from his face. He swings his legs to the side of the bed—and I take a good long look at his outfit. It’s different than it was before. It’s _all_ black—not a trace of blue remains on his clothing. There is some dark gray, however. The chest of his shirt is open—much wider than it used to, exposing pale skin from his chest nearly down to his navel.It reveals the soft white fur just below his navel, which I have to urge to groom. The collar stands up straight and covers most of his neck—and he has curved several spikes that look like claws along his neck. I wonder if that is part of his body now like the horns and tail have become a part of him, or if it's simply the outfit. He still wears tall black boots, trimmed with a little gray. The sleeves and gloves cover his arms entirely. He is indeed handsome.

But of course, I was not permitted to gaze upon him, and he is letting me know this now—when he reaches down to pinch my ear sharply making me meow in pain.

“Lower your gaze, kitten, until I give you permission to look upon me. You are here for _my_ enjoyment, not the other way round.”

I do as I am told, and he releases my poor ear. I examine his boots. It seems I will be looking at them quite a bit from now on.

“Wonderful. How do you feel, kitten?”

Should I be honest? Before I can decide, my mouth opens and words tumble out.

“Humiliated. I feel like less than a person.”

“Good,” he purrs softly. “Then you will obey my commands. That is your sole purpose. Let’s take care of your wounds, shall we?”

He grabs my collar and pulls me to my feet, dragging me over to the wall. I’m turned to face it and he pushes me up against it firmly but without violence. My claws are drawn and they sink into the surface of the wall. It’s slightly squishy like the floor was.

“Please,” I beg quietly. Fear courses through me.

“I do love to hear your voice, kitten, but I have not given you permission to beg. However…” his hands wander down to my ass when he says his next sentence, “because I didn’t specify silence, I won’t punish you for that utterance.”

“Thank you,” I whisper.

Treating my wounds, he said? Why am I so filled with dread? I feel him press against my body—sticky leather clinging to my thighs, and he lowers his mouth to my ear. 

“Relax for me and submit. Cry out if you need to.”

I stiffen fearfully—and my ass is spanked sharply with a leather gloved hand, making a small, embarrassing squeal leak out of my mouth. 

“I told you to _relax_.”

“Ah! I’m sorry,” I beg his forgiveness, and fear seeps into every part of my body. I have the urge to resist and protect myself.

His mouth drops from my ear to my nape, and from my nape to my shoulder, then toward the wound on my back. He presses his fingers around the outside of the wound, and he lets his claws enter it gently. It burns—and then I feel that strange substance leaking into me. As before, my heart starts to race—desperately thumping in my ears—while I’m flooded with a sensation that's both colder than ice and hotter than fire.  
  
But I fight my instinct to escape the touch and I stay relaxed—as well as I can. From the wound on my back, his tongue glides lower, to the wounds on my ass and thighs. He licks them for me—and his tongue now feels cold. I gasp and shiver, but not because this hurts. This actually feels tender. Aside from having to stand up to let him handle me like this, it reminds me of the grooming he did to my entire body the night before we ended up here. The thought makes despair burn in my eyes.

The more I relax and submit to his tenderness, the more my ankle starts to burn. Even hotter than the burning oil sensation I felt yesterday, this feels more like a brand, and I cry out in desperation and pain. Tears fall, and I decide I need to beg for mercy.

“Please—my ankle—it’s on fire!”

I hear a soft hum behind me, and my body is pushed up closer to the wall, hard enough to make me lose my balance. My stomach and my cheek are now pressed against the cool, slightly strange feeling surface of the wall—and the sensation is incredibly eerie.

My thigh is touched gently and my left knee is bent behind me. The devil shifts behind me and licks the burning sensation on my ankle. It burns even more—despite the cool sensation on his tongue.

“It’s proof—proof that you belong to me.” He sounds incredibly pleased.

The pressure pushing against my body suddenly disappears and I hear a soft command.

“Get back on the bed.”

I obey as quickly as possible, shivering with a mix of fear and desire. I can't tell which is stronger!

He walks back toward the bed and lifts up my ankle again. I’m sitting up, but seeing my skin frightens me. There is a new mark on my ankle. This one I recognize. It’s the same sigil as the one covering Rai’s chest. It’s fascinating. I wonder if he put this on me.

“Beautiful. And you suffered so well for me. Now, I would like you to nourish me.”  
  
“N-nourish?” I stammer. It sounds like he wants to _eat_ me!

“Yes. Kitten, I enjoy your taste—and more than enjoying it, it fills me with power and well being.” I’m lowered back to the bed, and I whimper a small protest. “I will reward you if you continue your compliance.”

He straddles me, sitting on my knees. Then, he dips his head closer to my body, and I shudder when his hair brushes my skin.

“M-may I touch you?” I ask softly.

Glancing up at me, he looks thoughtful.

“Yes, as long as you don’t resist or protest my care of you.”

I reach out my hands and comb through his hair with my fingers. I miss his small furry ears _so_ much—but those black horns are quite lovely, once you get used to them.

“Did these hurt?” I ask.

He glances up at me.

“When your body changed, was it painful?” I press my question. I let my fingers glide up and down the spirals on his horns, and he is purring.

“It did.”

“You aren’t in pain now, are you?” I whisper. 

He hums instead of giving me a direct answer. As I run my fingers on his head, I explore his new ears, pointed at the tips, flesh without fur. They are quite lovely, too, I think. They suit him.

“Do not struggle,” the demon reminds me. “Remember your purpose here and submit.”

His face has made its way to my thighs, and my legs are gently pushed apart. It looks like he smelling me, and then I feel his nose push against the inside of one of my legs. I shudder when I feel his lips and that cool tongue. And it shouldn’t be a surprise when I feel his fangs sink into my tender flesh—but it is.

I yelp in pain, my body jerking on its own, trying to escape being eaten.

“Please! Be gentle with me,” I beg. My pleas go unheeded. 

I feel a trail of blood seeping from my thigh and down the inside of my leg—and to my shock, he licks it up. What is he doing? Drinking my blood?  
  
I’ve seen him lick my tears and even purposely devour my spilled passion. But blood? I've guessed he consumed it earlier when he was cleaning the wound on my back. What _is_ this and what does it mean? Even as he laps up the blood from that wound, the strange desire floods my body again. I was sure it was bloodlust before—but this is different. This feeling is submission to anything he would like to do to me, even if it's painful. A part of me thinks I would never submit to this so readily. It feels like a spell.

When Rai lifts his face to mine, my heart feels like it might stop. His lips and tongue are stained red with blood, though his fangs are clean and white. The color of my blood stands out really well.

Then—he swiftly pulls his claws across my chest—it burns, of course, raising four thin marks against my skin, which spill trails of blood. I gasp in pain, unable to hold back my tears, so I let them fall. I don’t know what to do, so I simply submit. 

Is he going to _kill_ me?

I lift my chin, exposing my throat and my chest in submission. I also try to drop my eyes, but I can’t seem to look away from what he is doing to me. He is painting the blood on my chest with his fingertips. He lifts his hand up to me as if showing off.

“It’s such a pretty color.”

Then, he licks his fingers. When his long tongue pokes out of his mouth, I shiver—and _not_ with fear. To my utter surprise, _desire_ floods my body. I try to fight the feeling, but already the blood has rushed to my lower body and I feel my cock stiffen. What is wrong with me? This is completely fucked up. Do I _want_ him drinking my blood? 

“You taste sweet, little Sanga.”

My mind isn’t working right—there is something _else_ inside me—and my ankle still burns. I am _changing_. I know I am changing into something other than a cat. I'm becoming more like him.

He lowers his mouth to my chest and licks more blood from the wounds, and then he lifts his face and touches my lips with his. A shudder of pleasure courses through me—an electric feeling. My fur bristles and my fangs bare.

“You are learning well. Stay just like you are.” 

His voice sounds so different from my Rai—it’s coarse and unrestrained, with a deep throaty purr underneath. And so low.

I close my eyes for a moment—and I’m shocked to find even _that_ increases the desire overtaking my body. He bites my nipples with sharp fangs—and that too sends a creepy, sexual feeling down my spine.

I am starting to feel lightheaded—not from blood loss, I’m sure—but from my ragged, panting breathing. My lips are numb and I can’t feel the tips of my fingers or my nose or tail.

An image appears in my mind while my eyes are closed. I’m brought back to my childhood for a moment. My mother hadn't wanted me to be an only child or to be lonely, so she made me a few stuffed dolls that I could play with to keep me company. I was very young—probably four years old. I remember when my favorite doll’s stitching came unraveled, its white stuffing started to leak out of its head, between its ears. I remember looking at this stuffing, wondering if that was inside me as well. I was terribly frightened—I remember. I had loved that doll, hugged it desperately, played with it. And even as gentle and tender as I was with it, it still came undone and leaked out its insides.

I haven’t thought of that doll for many years. But now, I think of the stuffing leaking out of the doll, and it feels the same as my body—leaking blood. What is it that makes a person come undone? What unravels a person's stitching and allows his insides to bleed out? Is this blood all there is to me? Or is there more inside me?

The devil’s voice interrupts my revery. 

“You have done very well for your first lesson. Let’s get you a reward. I have some ideas of my own, but today, I will ask you—is there anything you desire?”

His lovely face—Rai’s face, except for his eye—is staring at me, waiting for me to reply. So beautiful.

“Tenderness,” I whisper. “Please. A little tenderness. From you.”

He smiles softly.

“Have I set my expectations too high, kitten? Nevertheless, I will see to your need.” He lays down in the bed next to me, pulling my back against his chest. But then—I realize this is not enough.

“M-may I make a request?”

“You may.”

“I want to feel the touch of your skin against mine. Please.” I sob the request quietly, tears spilling down my face. I _need_  this, though—I need to feel the warmth of his skin, not just that smooth leather.

“How demanding,” he purrs softly. “I will oblige your request.”

He stands up from the bed, and I turn to watch. He pulls off that strange open shirt, and I see his neck doesn’t have spikes on it, thankfully. It’s just the collar. He strips off his boots and pants, displaying himself before me proudly. He is still beautiful—even with the sigil on his chest, those long black horns, strange ears, and the black tail I keep thinking is a snake. 

“Now. You will pick up my clothes and fold them neatly for me. This is one of your tasks. If I undress in front of you, you will care for my clothing.”

I climb out of bed and lean his boots up against a chair, folding his clothes as neatly as I can.

“Good boy. Now come here for your reward.”

I crawl back into bed, my fur bristled in anticipation—and when he pulls me against his chest, I’m engulfed in warmth. I stretch my legs out long and line them up perfectly with the demon’s legs and thighs. I can feel him pressing his cock against my ass, and I feel it plumping up. It sends a shock of heat through my body, but really, what I want now is to just feel this warmth.

Part of my brain is amazed by how familiar his body feels and how nice he smells. It warms my heart and breaks it at the same time. He is slowly grooming my ears, and the gentle touch makes me melt. My purr is loud in response, and my body relaxes further. When I close my eyes, I can almost imagine my _Touga_ is in bed with me—and not this demon.

When the thought crosses my mind, the demon runs claws down my waist, tracing it lightly barely leaving scrapes on my skin. He chuckles softly.

“You are working so hard to reconcile your new world and your lover’s changed appearance. I’m proud of you.” 

I keep my eyes closed and relax. If my Rai is truly gone from this world, I will learn to love _this_ version of him. He desires me—he chose me and saved me. I’ve decided I will submit to him, regardless of how much it breaks my heart and makes me ache. I can live here with the help of this tenderness.

 


	7. Mind Fucking, Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It isn't enough for the demon to have Konoe's body at his disposal. He also desires his mind--and he starts with Konoe's memories.
> 
> Trigger: non-con spanking, plus spoiler alert of actual game dialog, albeit bastardized. Although if you're reading this, you've probably seen this already.

I’ve lost track of time. When I wake, more often than not, the devil isn’t in the room with me. When he arrives, I immediately kneel at his feet when he enters. Once or twice, he has demanded that I stay on my knees when leaves, telling me to remain in that position till he returns. The first time, I couldn’t obey. Despite the slight give of the squishy floor, my knees became tired and my legs cramped. When he returned, I was in the same place, collapsed in a heap on my side, my tail wrapped around my body. My exhaustion led to another punishment.

He has shown me other ways in which he’d like me to serve him. We do eat—on occasion. Though what exactly the food consists of remains a mystery. I don’t feel terribly hungry or thirsty—it’s as if the food is a routine and pleasurable one at that. He is trying to teach me to serve and obey him, waiting my turn for his permission to allow me to eat. Sometimes, he doesn’t allow me to eat and feeds me himself. I feel humiliated.

I’ve also helped him bathe—one of the rooms in the long hallway is an opulent bathing chamber. He has me undress him, shampoo his hair, soap up his body, and scrub his back. Then I dry him off, comb his hair, and service him. After I’ve finished—on my knees, of course—I too am allowed to bathe. The water is usually slightly cool, left from his bath, but I do not complain, though I shiver by the time I climb out of the tub.

When he is here with me, my mind is _focused_ on serving him, pleasing him, and escaping punishment. I don't dare think of my own pleasure while he is in the room with me, though he often sees to it himself if I please him. But when I wake up alone, like today, my mind wanders back to when I first met Rai in the forest south of Ransen. He saved me from those bandits and I sang for him. He was so different than he is now. I’ve shed many tears because of those memories.

Today, when the door swings open and I climb down to the floor immediately, kneeling and lowering my gaze humbly, the devil walks over to me and grasps my chin, forcing me to look at his face. My ears lower and I can feel my heart pound—I wonder what I’ve done to displease him and I start to prepare myself for another punishment. Tears are already leaking from my eyes.

“So far, I have been training your body to submit to me. Today, I will start on your mind—beginning with your memory.” His voice and calm tone send a shiver down my back, making my tail fluff up.

“M-my memory?” I whisper. Surely my memories are sacrosanct. He can't touch them, can he?

“Come,” he says, and I feel my collar pulled roughly up, so I am standing on my feet and following him out of the room that has become my entire world. 

We walk down the hallway and he opens the door, pushing me inside. The room is strange—there is no furniture, and the strange floors, walls, and even the ceiling looks like an empty space. It feels slightly squishy under my bare feet. 

“I’d like you to remember when you and I met—the second time I saw you, right after you first sang to me.” 

That was eerily the memory I was _just_ thinking about—and it’s occurred to me more than once that this devil can read my thoughts. I’m ashamed, and I immediately drop down to my knees and bow at his feet.

“I d-didn’t m-mean anything by it!” I beg desperately, now terrified of what he has planned. “Please—the m-memory just p-popped into my head!”

“Hush, little Sanga. I want you to close your eyes and remember,” he says, his voice gentle. He brushes his gloved hand over my eyes. “Go back in your mind and remember the forest—how it looked, how dark it was, its natural green scent.” 

With those words, the mark on my leg burns a little, and I flinch but keep my eyes closed. I start to hear the sound of the trees waving in the wind above the forest canopy, the cool breeze in my hair and skin, the slightly humid and chilly temperature of the air. Later that day, we saw the sunset together—just as we were approaching Ransen. 

“Do you remember how you felt? The heaviness of your curse? The feel of the clothes on your skin?”

Suddenly, my wrists and ankles burn—and heaviness comes over my body. It feels like Leaks’ curse has returned on my body, making my heart ache and my limbs heavy. I’d lost my home and had been separated from Asato. I was worried about him, actually—he might have been killed by Kiran pursuers, all because of me. I needed to get to Ransen, and I felt desperate.

“Do you remember how you felt after singing for me? After the business associates had surprised us in the woods?” 

My body feels exhausted—from all the walking and from the song, how I used to get every time I sang. But at that time, I wasn’t even aware that I was the one singing. I heard the battle song, I felt my body vibrate—and then I woke up, sitting on the forest floor.

“Listen to your memories,” the demon whispers into my ears. “Open your eyes.” 

A gasp escapes my lips when my eyes open. I am _in_ that forest again—dressed in my clothes, boots on my feet, gauntlets covering my arms, and my tail is black and bristled. I look up and see Rai— _my_ Rai—with a bristled white tail and white rounded ears, and he still has his eye. He’s also dressed in the black and blue outfit I remember. What _is_ this? 

“Should you let them escape?” I hear myself ask surprisingly. This is me in my memory—but I am here again. I don’t understand. It feels like I am actually reliving this moment. 

“You... I heard a song. From you,” Rai tells me, his voice calm and cool—just how I remember. I am longing for _him_ , by the gods! Did I feel like this when I first met him? Was I really attracted to him even then?

“A song?” The words tumble out of my mouth, a dubious look appearing on my expression. Why can’t I control what I’m saying?

“A song without words sounded in my head. Then I was suddenly filled with power. It was like some kind of dormant energy had been awakened. I didn’t know it’d have that much of an effect.” Rai studies my face as he speaks. “You... Could you possibly be a Sanga?”

I am filled with disbelief and a mix of surprise and fear, an exact replica of the feelings in my memory. 

“I’m a Sanga?”

“Yes. Perhaps you’ve never sung before?”

My Touga gives me a knowing smirk.

“It’s something that seems to present itself at the most valuable times. Touga can feel it. You’re a Sanga.”

“That can’t be true,” I insist, feeling my fur fluff up.

“Hmpf,” Rai says, taking the tone of the cat with more experience. He sounds so arrogant and sure of himself. “You’ll realize it eventually. Not using this newfound power is your loss. There are plenty of cats who want to be able to do this, but can’t.” 

“Use it? How?”

“Do you remember when you were singing?”

I shake my head in response. I know how to sing now and exactly what happened the first time I sang for my Touga since I’ve thought about it so many times. But at this point in my memory, I don't remember singing. It’s as if I cannot change anything about this! I feel slightly nervous and stifled.

Sheathing his sword, Rai sways his tail from side to side.

“I see. So it was an accident. You’ll need to train until you can control it.” My heart is filled with warmth at those words—when he offered to take me under his wing. I do remember! The stifled feeling changes to something like nostalgia.

“Train?” My voice is still filled with doubt, even though I know what will happen next!

Rai’s hand reaches out to my shoulder and pulls me close. He smells so good and he feels so nice—but in my memory, I feel threatened. It’s an odd mix of feelings. 

“Let go of me,” I argue. I feel embarrassed by his touch and I’m intimidated by his size.

“Come with me.” Rai uses his most cool, most neutral tone. I haven’t heard him issue a command like that in a long time. Not since I’ve been captured and was taken to this place.

“Huh?”

“I’m going to help you. To enhance your Sanga abilities.” Rai’s voice is full of confidence. Still, did he always sound like such a know-it-all? It’s not exactly how I remember but seeing everything unfold before me is shocking.

I shake my arm free and pull away, but I don’t say anything.

“What? If you have something to say to me, speak.”

“First off, enough of that. I didn’t ask for your help, and I didn’t agree to go with you. Don’t just decide this stuff on your own.” I feel anger and heat in my voice—a power I haven’t felt in a long time. It is physically painful to hear it.

“Then what are you going to do?” Rai asks; calm, cool, collected. He watches me carefully, staring down at my feet then peeking up at him shyly, feeling like I’d like to find a hole to hide in. 

“Before that, answer my questions. Then I’ll think about it.” 

“Fine.” 

“Why... When I was attacked by the bandits, you helped me escape. But then when we met again today, you suddenly attacked me. Just what are your intentions?” Rai is surprisingly alert to every change of my expression, every mannerism, all those emotions piled up on the outside of my face. 

“Back with the bandits, it was just on a whim. I was cleaning up small prey. That’s all. Today, I was testing your strength. To see how long you could hold your own.”

“Test my strength? Why did you feel the need to do that?”

“I enjoy fighting skilled opponents. If they’re not strong, they’ll probably be killed by bandits or monsters sooner or later anyway. Had I killed you earlier, it wouldn’t have been much different.”

“So you’re just some random murderer.” Those disrespectful words and my tone shock me. If I only knew!

“Perhaps. If you want to think of it that way, go ahead. I don’t really care.” The silver cat is smirking slightly.

“And those two from earlier?”

“Colleagues of mine. Well, I guess I should say, ‘business rivals.’” 

“Business rivals?” The conversation is getting embarrassing. Did I always echo his words like that? Do I still?

“Near Ransen there’s a hideout in the forest where news of bounties come in. There was some guy in the forest. I was about the collect the bounty on him when you appeared.”

“Bounties... You’re a bounty hunter?” My chest lightens suddenly—it’s the memory. I wanted to go to Ransen so very much! He was a beacon of hope for me, and I can’t keep the desperation from my tone. “Ransen is near here?”

“It’s not that far,” replies Rai.

“There’s a path?” My hope and desperation grow exponentially. I’m really getting into this memory now. My tail twitches in agitation when Rai nods.

“You want to go to Ransen?”

“Yes.”

“The reason?”

I don’t reply—in fact, I purse my lips. And part of my heart aches again—realizing I did not trust him at this point. I was afraid he wouldn’t help me if he knew about the curse. I’d live alone and unassisted for so many years, and I trusted no one.

“I asked, and you’re quiet. Now, who’s the selfish one?”

An angry noise escapes my mouth—and again, I’m stunned by my disrespect, stunned that the silver cat doesn’t lose his patience with me.

“Whatever. What do you want to do? Decide. Are you coming with me or not?”

“You’re going to Ransen?” I feel my chest opening up a little—like I’m daring to trust him.

“Yeah. I suppose I could go back.”

Meeting his gaze with determined eyes, I reply confidently, “I’ll go, too.”

“If you choose to follow me, you will submit to my rules.”

Those words feel slightly different from my memory and I feel something in my mind creak a little, but I still stand up to follow him. I really don’t remember him saying anything about submission or rules.

“What rules?” I ask—mostly to verify my memory. I look around me, and we still appear to be in the forest, south of Ransen. I am still dressed, Rai still has his gorgeous silver fur, and he is staring down at me. 

“Well, I can teach you most of them as we go along. But to start, when I ask you to do something, you will do it.”

“What if I don’t feel like it?” The disrespectful question tumbles from my lips. I feel like the young, cursed, hot-headed brat I was when we first met, and I’m certainly acting like one.

“You’ll have to suffer the consequences,” Rai replies, stepping a little closer to me and grabbing my shoulder. He pulls me in close. “Are you testing me now?”

“N-no,” I stammer, now flustered. My mind feels weird. “I-i…”

“You what?”

“I want to go to Ransen!” I burst.

“So you’ve said, but you haven’t told me why. What will you do to make up the difference?”

This is not _my_ memory anymore. I’m _sure_ this didn’t happen—and I widen my eyes. What is going on here? Is he enchanting me somehow?

“What is this?” I ask, and I feel fear climbing up in my chest.

“This is you, trying to test me before we even start walking. Why do you want to go to Ransen?” His voice is low and calm, and it makes me shiver.

“I-i can’t tell you,” I whisper. I’m scared of him—not just intimidated, but actually frightened. I try to pull away, but his arm is gripping me so hard I cannot escape.

“Can’t or won’t?” He asks, a playful smile creeping across his lips. 

This isn’t right! Rai didn’t speak to me like this! If he had, I would have run away!

“Let go of me!” I shout. 

“You haven’t answered my questions, though I was kind enough to answer yours. I’m waiting,” Rai replies—and he still sounds like my Touga, not like the devil I’m living with now. But it’s weird—because that smirk is still playing on his lips. He didn't smile like that very often... that I can remember.

“This isn’t right!” I say. “This isn’t what happened!”

“I’ll take that as a ‘won’t,’ then,” Rai says simply, and he pulls me across the glade where we fought the bandits. He’s leading me into the forest. I know for _sure_ that this didn’t happen. If he had frightened me like this, I never would have accompanied him.

“N-no—stop!” I cry out.

Rai sits down on a log and pulls me close to him, so I’m standing between his muscular thighs. He has his hand on my chin and is forcing eye contact.

“Kitten, if you don’t submit to me, what are your other options? Wandering around out here in the forest till you starve? Hoping for the Kiran idiot to find you again? Hoping and praying you will be able to escape any bandits that come after you? You’re just their type, you know. Young fresh meat goes for a great price these days. Or better still, perhaps you’d be sold to a brothel. It’s unusual to come across a cat with a body like yours and black fur—and this tail.”

Some of these words and phrases are familiar, but he didn't know about Asato at this point. I'm sure he didn't! He runs claws through my tail, sending a strange shiver up my spine.

“This isn’t what happened!” I insist, and I squeeze my eyes shut tight for a moment, hoping to wish myself away from this place. I feel like my memory is becoming untangled, unraveled, and I am left with what is happening before me now. While my eyes are shut, however, I am pulled across the larger cat’s lap faster than I can process. A grunt escapes my mouth and when I open my eyes, I’m staring down at the leaves and grass I was just standing on. “Get your hands off me!”

“I don’t think so,” Rai purrs softly. “This is me establishing ground rules. Pay close attention.”

I try to fight him—I _really_ do—putting my entire body behind my attack, drawing claws and trying to escape his grip. But my resistance is useless. He pins my hands at the small of my back and caresses my ass through the fabric of my trousers.  
  
“Stop this! Stop it now! I _know_ this isn’t what happened! I _never_ would have gone with you!”

“Is that what you think?” That soft purring voice enters my ears again. “You think I would have allowed you to remain lost in the forest? Stupid cat! You were coming with me one way or the other. I would never have left an unpaired Sanga in the woods when I needed your strength. You just didn’t know it.” 

His words make my heart—and my body—freeze for a moment. He _did_ want me for my power—the effect he didn’t know my song would have until he heard it. But would he have really _forced_ me to come with him? What if I didn’t sing?

“Ah. Now you realize. So relax and take what’s coming to you, insolent brat,” but he speaks the words so lovingly it doesn’t sound like an insult. It feels like when he calls me a stupid cat—or when he used to call me that. I feel tears brimming in my eyes.

“Rai—please!” I’m not struggling anymore, but I know this is wrong. It isn’t my memory anymore—but what really did happen? Now I can’t remember. I _really_ can’t remember! It’s as if this new experience is writing over my existing memory—and I feel violated in a way that I can't remember ever feeling before.

My trousers are pulled down to my knees—my underwear, too—and I gasp when being so suddenly exposed. In real life, I haven’t worn any clothes in such a long time. I thought I was used to being naked and exposed. So I don’t understand why being exposed now feels so humiliating! It’s like a bad memory, an _embarrassing_ memory—and I don’t like it!

But at the same time, his gloved hand feels nice on my skin, and I am aroused—by both my embarrassment and the fact that he is touching me so tenderly. 

“I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t care about you, little Sanga,” he whispers into my ear—and nips the tip and licks the inside, making me mewl and shrug my shoulder. My body is relaxed—despite the fact I know what is coming.

But how can I know what is coming if this has never happened before? And why am I not fighting him anymore? I would never have put up with this—unless… is he right? Would I have put up with it, just for the sake of not being left alone in the forest again?

Smack! 

M thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of that glove connecting with my ass. The first blow stings my skin—which is undamaged and virginal—quite literally virginal. I’ve never been touched like this before in my memory—and no one has _ever_ stripped off my pants, either. The mortification of being in this position floods my body, my mind, and my heart, and tears spill down my cheeks. 

Then, he spanks me in earnest—slapping that smooth leather against my bare skin, again and again, covering both my cheeks, my upper thighs, and my sit spot thoroughly. My skin gets hot and sore—almost immediately—and it isn’t long before I am crying in all earnestness, as well. I no longer am worried about this not being my memory and am much more concerned with trying to find a way to _survive_ this.

I am not relaxed—clenching my cheeks, which I know by now makes the punishment hurt even more—and that he will continue spanking me until I _do_ relax my muscles. It takes quite a bit of time for me to finally relax into the punishment, basking in the pain, and also strangely in the comfort of his touch. I feel my tail relax, my abdomen relax, and my cheeks completely relax. Then he slows down and finishes with the last three blows, one to each of my cheeks and one to my sit spot.

My sobs are still coming, my chest hitching, blood pooling in my lower body—and to my shock, I am pulled up from his lap, facing him. He has me pinned between his knees, and his arms wrap around my back tightly. The tight hug—his scent, the feel of his hair and his fluffy tail, which I am stroking behind him, his hands caressing my punished skin—all of those things make my chest ache and my body melt.

“You did very well. I don’t like to punish you, kitten, but I will do what I have to do to make sure you obey me. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes,” I sob. “I'm s-sorry! P-please, d-don’t leave me!” What is wrong with me? My heart feels like it is overflowing. I am crying and sobbing still—unable to stop my tears.

He kisses the tears on my face—licking them off my cheeks, just like the devil does to me now, in fact!—but I find it soothing.

“Hush, no more tears now. You’ve pleased me. You’ve atoned.”

Relief floods my body, and a few more desperate sounding sobs expressing my relief escape my mouth. I wipe my tears on his shirt—I’m sure I dampen the exposed white skin of his chest—and choke off my fit, still sniffling. 

“Come now. Get dressed, and let’s go.”

I nod my head firmly and obey, standing up and pulling up my underwear and pants—still mortified—but I follow as soon as he starts walking. And me? I scamper after that fluffy tail, swishing back and forth gently as he walks. I want it—and _him_ —more than anything. I want to _please_ him. I want him to like me. I want him to accept me and _love_ me.

And just as suddenly as it appeared, the forest around me dissolves into a void. It’s disorienting. I watch silver fur disappear and fade to black. His soft rounded ears dissolve into long black horns, and he turns his head to face me. Both his eyes are gone—and I’m facing the devil again, in this strange, eerie and empty room. And I’m naked once more, except for the shackles around my wrists and the collar around my neck. I touch it with a certain degree of surprise and disorientation and a fresh feeling of humiliation.

“Do you remember, now?”

My heart is frozen—and my mind feels stiff like something strange has been implanted in it. But I cannot remember the first time we met any differently now. As far as my mind remembers—when I think of it—what just happened _is_ the memory in my brain.

“What did you do?” I ask, suspicious. I don’t understand what just happened!

“Kitten, think about where you are. What should you be doing right now?” The devil’s coarse voice replies in a husky tone.

In an instant, I stop my protesting and drop down to my knees, lowering my gaze as he taught me.

“There’s a good kitten. I’m pleased with you, Konoe.”

With those kind words, he scoops me up in his arms and carries me back to the dark bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Devil Rai actually changes Konoe's memory of their first meeting in this chapter--well, their second meeting.
> 
> The demon takes Konoe to an empty room, asks him to remember the second time they met in the forest south of Ransen. Konoe remembers what actually happened after the very first time he awakened as a Sanga--except that Rai changes some of the things that happen in the memory.
> 
> The room is transformed into the forest, and Konoe relives the experience--with a difference that Rai "asserts his dominance" and lays down some ground rules. He spanks Konoe for being out of line and disrespectful, saying that if Konoe doesn't submit, he will be left in the forest.
> 
> Konoe's memory actually changes--when he comes back to his senses, he is in the eerie empty room, and he cannot remember what actually happened. This new "memory" has overwritten the real one. Yep. The power of a devil.


	8. Mind Fucking, Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konoe is treated to another round of memory alteration by the demon. He is unable to tell what is real and what is fake at this point. The demon is wiggling his way into Konoe's mind.
> 
> Trigger: non-con kissing and groping, dub-con sexual activity

Another memory invasion occurs a second time the next time the devil visits me. I’ve been left alone for quite a while after the time Rai made me remember our first meeting. I can no longer remember what really happened—in fact, to me, the devil’s version of events is now firmly in place in my mind as the actual story and memory—but somehow I know that isn’t what actually happened.

“Let’s go,” he says, pulling me from my knees the next time he enters my room.

I’d been alone for a while, resting, with my thoughts. I am actually kind of glad to see him. I realize I don’t enjoy being alone in this place. I’d much rather interact with this demon than be alone with my rambling thoughts. I feel like I might be losing my mind.

He leads me out of the bedroom. I think we are on good terms since I managed not to upset him or disobey him since the last time we met. I feel like my body and mind are somehow being changed by being here, however, and I recognize the plain, empty blank void of a room he brings me from the last time I was here. Fear shivers down my back. 

“Wh-what are we d-doing here?” I whisper. “M-my memories of our first meeting have already been changed. I c-can’t remember what a-actually happened a-anymore—”

“What do you mean, 'what actually happened'?” The demon murmurs into my ear.“What _do_ you remember then? How do you know that _isn’t_ what actually happened?”

“Um,” I stammer. “I-i d-didn’t m-mean it like that.”  
  
“As I suspected, recalling just our initial meeting won’t be enough,” the demon purrs, rubbing my ears gently. “I want you to remember the time you bought the incense. Now.”

“The incense?” That was the first time Rai kissed me. I was offended because he had taken me by surprise, and I thought he was teasing me. I remember being frightened—and it wasn’t till that night before we confronted Leaks that I realized he actually _wanted_ to touch me, with or without the catnip.

“Are you remembering? Close your eyes.” My eyes drift closed, despite my best efforts. I know he is going to try to change that memory. It feels invasive and wrong!

“Let’s walk along the river,” the words spill from my lips unbidden. When I open my eyes, I find myself in the forest again, and I can hear the gurgling stream. The night air is brisk and cool on my skin. I'm dressed like I was before I came here, too.

Curling up my tail in delight, I head toward the sound of water. The road was dark and quiet—and peaceful. That scented sachet in my breast pocket is tickling my nose pleasantly, making me feel relaxed and safe. Rai—the cat—is following me. He has all his silver fur and one of his eyes, and he seems to be watching me carefully.

“Do you like water?” I ask, mesmerized by the sound of the stream.

“I don’t especially like it. Since you hate fire, does that mean you like water?”

“No, not really,” I answer, purring. I really am in a good mood if Rai can mention my fear of fire and I don’t respond to his mocking. The fragrance from the incense is floating all around me, making me feel lightheaded and strange. When I turn toward Rai, I notice the corner of his eye is a little bloodshot.

“Oy.”

I call to Rai and approach him, examining his face at close range.

“Could it be, you’re also…?”

I can feel heat between my ears—they must be flushing.

“Maybe we caught a cold.”

I’ve never felt like this before, and it’s confusing. I bring my hand up to my ears to check my temperature. But Rai’s response shocks me—despite the fact that I know this memory. I still feel angry when I hear his condescending tone.

“You really are a stupid cat. But this is even stupider. Can’t you hear that?” Rai’s voice is sharp.

When I prick up my ears, I sense the presence of cats. And more than that, I can hear the rustling of clothes, hurried breath, gasping sighs, and moans. It's the sound of the bodies of cats on top of each other. There are probably cats doing something in the grass. Then it hits me, and I’m completely mortified.

Gasping in surprise and embarrassment, my flushed face deepens to an even dark shade.

“That incense. The smell of it is hanging over us.”

“Why does it smell like that?” 

“There were cats here before us and they were probably using it. There’s probably some low-quality catnip mixed in it.” Rai looks full of contempt.

“But it doesn’t smell like the one they were burning at the stall at all.” He told me not to buy it. I wonder if he knew? But this really doesn’t smell like the stuff I was sold.

“That was probably to lure in customers. Normal cats can’t tell the difference in quality and it’s easy to deceive them. Though some cats do know and bought it for that purpose.” Rai looks at me as though I am one of the cats who could tell and should have known better. But this was my first time at the festival and I didn’t know what to expect!

My ears and tail droop low. It is a childish reaction—even I know that. My inexperience shows even more in the way I steal several glances toward the two cats as they passed by. They were probably just having sex! And shit—it was _my_ idea to walk the long way back to the inn—of course, to him, it looks like I’m trying to seduce Rai! 

While I’m wallowing in regret, Rai suddenly reaches out toward me, my head still lowered and confused. He grasps my shoulder and pulls me in close to his body. He has touched me like this before—that first time we met and he wanted me to come with him as his Sanga. But Rai doesn’t touch me often, and the powerful grip of his fingers on my shoulder sends a shiver down my spine.

“What?” I ask.

“Be quiet.”

Rai pulls my face against his shoulder as he embraces me. I can smell his breath and his scent, and he smells even more attractive than that catnip stuff. My body is hot, and wherever we touch feels hot enough to burn me. Still—this isn’t right. I squirm in his arms and protest.

“Wait, just wait! Let go!” 

“I thought I told you to be quiet,” Rai whispers right into my ear just before licking it. In this memory, I have never had something like this done to me before. The sudden touch feels really strange, but it arouses my body something fierce! I don’t understand this feeling in this memory. 

“What are you doing!?” I protest again loudly, shaking my head when Rai traces my ear with his tongue. Aside from the incense, I’m completely unable to ignore the comforting, pleasant scent that is drifting from Rai. I shake my head as if that tickling feeling wasn’t enough. Then, before I know what happens, Rai embraces me and drags me into the trees.

“Hey, seriously, what are you doing!?” Still confused and feeling even more desperate, I raise my voice, struggling to get him to set me free.

Rai pushes my body into the grass up against the trunk of a tree in the middle of the thicket, leaving me feeling utterly bewildered and vulnerable, but it’s even harder to ignore the larger cat’s body heat.

“This is your fault,” Rai whispers.

“Wh—why?”

I’ve never seen Rai like this. I didn’t know he could be anything other than the cool, collected cat I’ve known and relied on. Seeing him this way, his breath labored, a trace of heat glowing in his eye, I feel like the bottom of my world has dropped out from beneath me. His breath isn’t this ragged even when he trains me on the sword. I am frightened—truly frightened—but also extraordinarily intrigued. Is he reacting because of the incense or is this something more? Could he actually be attracted to _me_?

“Damn it.” Rai clicks his tongue in irritation before he nips the tip of my ear, making my body shake in surprise—and pleasure, too, if I’m honest. He sticks his tongue inside my ear and goosebumps shiver down my spine and back, bristling the fur on my tail. It feels so strange—Rai should not be handling me like this—but it also feels good. A strange sound leaks out of my mouth, something raw and sexual and something I don’t recognize at all.

I duck my head, trying to shrink away, pushing my back against the tree. Even when I  try to resist, Rai simply pins my arms to the tree with one hand. His strength and power are overwhelming. Then I feel my entire ear sucked into his mouth, carefully licked, and then slowly pulled out again.

Another even more seductive voice escapes my lips, much to my surprise. I quiver when Rai slowly pulls the ear out from his mouth between his lips. I feel just a graze of a fang on the tip of my ear.

“Stop!” My voice is protesting, but my body doesn’t dislike the feeling at all. I manage to pull away for a second, looking up at the sky while gasping for air. I meet Rai’s heated gaze, shocked at the passion hidden beneath the surface.

“I told you not to buy it,” Rai says, holding back his ragged breath. 

“You knew this would happen?”

“That’s not it. I told you not to get involved with things that don’t concern you.”

“It’s too late now, isn’t it?”

“That’s why you need to take responsibility.”

Those are the last words I hear from Rai before he takes my lips. I gasp in surprise, tensing up my body. He feels so hot! I don’t know if it’s Rai’s heat or my own. Rai switches angles, indulging in the kiss and deepening it. I start to feel like I’m floating. But when he tries to slip the tip of his tongue into my mouth, nudging at my fangs, I turn my face away and refuse him. But then I look up at him, meeting his eye.

“Why are you even like this?” I ask, amazed at the difference between the Rai before me now and the cool, collected cat I usually see. 

“What do you mean?”

“You’re always so calm.”

“I’m not some almighty being. I’m just a cat of flesh and blood. It’s difficult to go against instinctual desires that when you're forced into them.”

“But we’re male, you and me both.”

In retrospect, of course, my comment makes no sense. At this time, there is a shortage of females so many males were in same-sex relationships out of necessity. I’m sure there are cats who want to connect physically without producing offspring. But I wouldn’t go as far to think that this is normal. However, there’s no need to fool ourselves here. We are definitely crossing the line. Is this what I want?

“So what?” Rai’s casual answer surprises me a little. 

“Huh?” I lift my face.

“As long as you have desire, you should be able to experience pleasure no matter who your partner is.”

“Then anyone will do, huh.” I can’t keep the disappointment from my voice, and my desire has cooled significantly. I just happen to be here at the right place and the right time. He probably isn’t really attracted to me.

“Why do you think that?”

“Because just now—”

“Quite whining like a baby. If you don’t like it, bite me and get away.”

I’m unable to restrain my ire, my brows furrowed. From tightly pursed lips, I bite the tip of Rai’s nose with determination. It isn’t serious, more like a play bite, a single blow. However, that does nothing but heat up Rai’s body even more at that moment. I glare at him. Rai pulls his face away for a moment, smiling softly, then draws his lips close.

“So that’s the end of that.”

The fragrance of the incense coming from my bag grazes my nose, and I realize that Rai is provoking me. If I bite him, surely he will bite me in return and this will result in a squabble. Still, I can’t seem to help myself. His arrogant attitude is making me angry. I bite Rai’s top lip. Rai bites my lower lip I response. To my utter surprise, a faint but obvious pleasure arises from the pain where Rai bit me.

We both suck on each other’s lips, and the moment we try to bite down our fangs clash. The sound rings like an alarm in my head, pulling me back to reality from that gentle, indulgent pleasure. For a short moment, we both stop moving.

This is the point in which my memory of what happened starts to shift and change.

Even though I have pulled away, Rai aggressively attacks my lips with his own, making the fur on my ears and tail bristle. Even if I nip at him, I can’t get him to stop kissing me. I hear myself purring loudly, too, in response to his touch, even though it is slightly unwelcome. I close my eyes and return his kiss, feeling his tongue inside my mouth. It’s such a natural feeling— something that is meant to be there, something that belongs inside me.

When he pulls his lips away, he is also purring loud and deep, and I nip at his lower lip once again. He drags my body away from the tree, pushing my back flat against the cool grass, and he nips at my collarbone possessively after trailing his mouth from my lips down my throat to my sternum. The moment my hands are released from his grip, they dive into his hair. I am now in range of those small rounded ears and I bite them gently, allowing my fangs to graze the tip when I suck one into my mouth. 

The sounds coming out of me cannot be stifled at this point—because my body is getting so worked up. I thought we were about to stop messing around, but in this place—where I am right now, in this illusion or memory or whatever it is—more than anything I want to feel the gentle, tender touch of his lips on me, and I want to enjoy his silky white fur. Perhaps this is what I secretly wished would happen, though part of me still remembers him telling me, “This joke is over now,” and returning to the inn. 

Although… maybe that _isn’t_ what really happened. 

His hands loosen my apron and pull the front of my pants down—allowing my cock to spring free from the restraints of my clothing. Rai is purring so loud it almost sounds like a growl, and I hear him loosening his clothes as well. When he touches my cock, I feel like melting—his large hands wrapped around me, using the precum dripping from the tip to lubricate his caress me.

Then—I feel something else hot pressed against my dick—it’s much hotter than his hand. He is erect as well—and my gods, this touch is mesmerizing.

“Wait—just a second!” I try to gasp into his ear, but he tilts his face up to look at me when he presses his entire body against mine, trapping me beneath his weight. I feel him stroke me again—my cock pressed up right next to his and his hand wrapped around us both—even smoother than his fingers alone. A shiver rushes through my body and I let out a seductive-sounding voice. I can’t help my reaction.

I’m no longer pushing against his chest with my hands—no. Instead, I am indulging in these strange feelings of lust and I feel myself slowly but surely submitting to his desire. I can’t stand it—it’s too much. His other hand reaches out to my tail and strokes it firmly from base to tip, brushing the fur backward with his fingers.

Sighing into his mouth, I lean up to kiss him, letting our tongues entwine, and I pull my claws through his long, silver hair while my other hand has grabbed the tip of his tail. He is moving his hand slowly around both of us—well, he starts slowly and gently, but his movements are getting faster, harder, and much more urgent. I lose the ability to breathe for a moment, gasping and wheezing for air—and the cool evening breeze surrounding us feels hot and sticky. He smells so good…

When he presses his thumb into my slit, I cry out loud, my pleasure spilling from my body. I release into his hand, and he uses my come to lubricate us even more, making the caress even smoother and more delightful. It extends my climax in an amazing way, making my body shake and tremble, and when I feel him stutter and sigh softly, I know he has come as well.

I’m breathing hard—my breath is coming in fast, exhausted pants as though I have just run a mile. And then a wave of complete mortification floods my body along with the relaxing afterglow effects of my climax. 

_What have I done?_

But Rai doesn’t seem to think anything of it—in fact, he pulls away from me, and his face is completely relaxed and pleased. He is still purring—as I am, despite my red ears and my embarrassment. He licks the tips of both my ears before sitting up and grabbing a small cloth from his pocket. He uses that to wipe both of us down and clean off his hand.

I am lying in the grass, staring up at the forest overhang above. I see the soft pale light from the moon of shadow streaming through the leaves, and I give a great exhausted sigh of relief.

Then, the silver cat looks at me, takes my chin in his hand, and kisses me—tenderly and chastely—on the lips, the cheeks, both eyelids, and my forehead.

“You did well, little Sanga.”

The world around me dissolves like paint splattered on a canvas, and I blink my eyes several times when I wake up surrounded by that dark, colorless void. The ground beneath me feels slightly squishy, but I can still smell Rai’s pleasant scent.

He’s right here—in front of my eyes—and I lean up to kiss him.

He purrs softly and indulges me, returning my kiss with deep affection, and then lifts me up in his arms carrying me back to my bedroom.

And after that day, I can no longer remember what _actually_ happened during the time with the catnip. But I know—I can tell—my memory isn’t quite right. But whenever I think about it, the new memory is the memory I see—and feel—and it’s as real as anything else that has ever happened to me.


	9. Mind Fucking, Part III and the Transition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the last memory invasion, Konoe is starting to adjust to his new life with the demon--in fact, he now thinks of the demon as Rai. This chapter describes another trip to the memory room--and details Konoe's change of heart. His transition to Rai's servant is nearing completion.
> 
> No consent. Stockholm Syndrome and mind-fucking.

Time goes by a little more quickly now that my memories coincide with the unbalanced relationship I have with the devil version of Rai. If I’m honest, I no longer think of him as the devil version of my silver Touga, nor even of the Devil Rai. I think of him as _Rai_ —and that I exchanged power with him and agreed to submit to him upon our first meeting. 

My former memories have vanished completely—and I begin to fantasize about that lovely experience with the catnip whenever Rai leaves me alone. It’s one of my favorite memories—being touched so tenderly and with such passion. 

It’s impossible to tell time here—without any day or night—and our routine varies quite a bit, too—leaving me nothing with which I could judge the passing of the day. The variation of our routine is often difficult, leaving me open to whatever whims and wishes Rai desires. Not too much time has passed when he leads me to that empty room down the hallway again. Fear creeps up my spine, as it always does when we come here. But I don’t understand what it is that actually scares me. 

I kneel down on the floor when we arrive, now used to its soft squishy feeling under my knees and also the kneeling pose itself. It makes me feel comfortable and secure.

“Kitten, do you remember when we stayed at the old man’s inn?”

I glance up from beneath my lashes—I’m allowed to do this even when I kneel. It isn’t considered disobedience. In fact, Rai seems to like it when I look up at him like this.

“I do, yes.”

“I want you to remember the _first_ night we spent at that inn.”

I’m not exactly sure what he’s making me remember, but I nod quietly and close my eyes. Just as in the previous sessions, I feel clothes forming around my body—the curse weighing heavily in my heart and each of my limbs—and I am standing next to the window I’ve just opened in one of Bardo’s guest rooms. I can relax here, I think, and a small sigh escapes my mouth. 

Rustling on the bed across from mine catches my attention. At this point in time, I haven't had any experience spending an extended period of time in a small room with anyone other than me, so this is slightly uncomfortable. I look up to find Rai grooming a cut on his arm.

 _I did that_ , I remember clearly. I feel very guilty.

“It’s not a big deal. Show my yours,” Rai says casually.

I freak out suddenly, and it takes a minute to realize why. I do not want him to see the marks on my body—those marks from the curse. Surely, he will leave me if he sees them!

“I’m… fine,” I say, shaking my head, and I put up my arms to resist but the silver cat seems insistent. It isn’t that I think he will _never_ see those marks—it’s just that it’s our first day together and I don’t want him to discard me so soon. I flatten my ears when Rai looks unconvinced.

“What is it?” Rai asks, his voice still calm. A small puff of air escapes my mouth as I hesitate and resist. “Just show me already.” 

To my surprise, Rai takes a step closer to me and grabs my arm forcefully.

“No! Don’t touch me!” I protest immediately, baring my fangs in protest. Despite my best efforts, my other hand swings out, claws drawn to protect myself and I realize that I have unintentionally scratched Rai’s face. I watch in horror as Rai wipes the blood from his cheeks. 

“To be wounded twice by the same guy…” he says thoughtfully. He doesn’t sound particularly angry but instead almost bored.

I’m ashamed and embarrassed, my face and ears lowered and my hands clenched into fists. I hadn’t meant to scratch him. And I don’t reply.

“What are you so worried about? The color of your fur?” 

A stunned sound escapes my lips. He has noticed!

“Even if black ears and tail are a bad omen, the way you were covering yourself wasn’t normal. I thought as much when I saw you alone in the forest.” Even with my face pointed at the floor, I can feel Rai’s gaze resting on my ears.

I sigh softly, wondering if I have been overthinking it—and suddenly, I feel a large cool hand grabbing the back of my neck.

 _This is different!_ A small part of my memory protests. But I can’t stop it. In fact, I can’t resist in any way.

When his fingers dig into the skin at my nape, all power to seems to drain from my body. My limbs get heavy, my arms hang down at my sides, and my body instantly relaxes. My tail sinks between my legs—and I feel a flash of fear and a burst of anger when I realize he is _scruffing_ me—like a mother cat would scruff a disobedient kitten. I can’t even glare at him, though, or growl—those movements and sounds are not available to me. He hasn’t given me the chance to obey!

“We can do it this way, too, if you like,” his low voice murmurs in my ear. He strips the cloak from my shoulders and pulls off my shirt as well. One the gauntlets on my arms comes off along with my shirt, and I meow in protest at being exposed so suddenly. 

“This is…” Rai murmurs, mesmerized at the black markings on my forearms. His fingers glide slowly over the top of the mark on my left wrist, making it look like it’s squirming a little under the dim light from the lamp on the wall. I can’t do anything but shiver. “Are there more?”

I’m flooded with shame and embarrassment and can’t even nod my head in reply.

“My ankles, too,” I whisper, defeated. Even forming words is nearly impossible.

Rai peels off my remaining gauntlet and strips off my boots and socks as well. It’s strange and frightening to have him stripping items of clothing off my body when I am so helpless.

“Have you always had these markings?” Rai asks. 

“No. I just woke up like this one day. The same for my ears and tail,” I say, also quietly. 

“Black markings, black ears, black tail… These are the signs of the legendary curse?” Rai looks more fascinated than disgusted, however, which I suppose is a good thing. But I still can’t move because how he scruffing me. “This is what made you leave Karou? You traveled to Ransen looking for a cure?” 

Still feeling stifled by his grip on my body, I lick my lips and do my best to reply. It's hard to move my mouth and my voice sounds strange in my ears. “Yes. I couldn’t stay in my village. I had no choice but to leave.”

“I see.” Rai releases my neck for a moment and backs up a little, leaning against the wall next to the window with his arms crossed. The power slowly returns to my limbs, but that odd relaxation seems to linger.

“If this is from a curse, there must be a way to undo it.”

Somehow, I know this memory is slightly different from before. I don’t feel the same anger, even though I am being told I the obvious—and it's because the larger cat just scruffed me and stripped off my clothes. 

“You can’t have exhausted every possibility. Or am I wrong?” His voice is so calm—and he is stating the obvious. Despite the current state of my body—relaxed and docile—irritation flashes in my mind. 

“Maybe, but what should I do?” I ask, feeling discouraged. Also, I want to put my shirt back on, but it has been discarded on his bed. I can't reach it. 

“Search around. Or do you intend to succumb to death so easily?”

Those words do manage to enrage me—as though I have done nothing on my own nor thought of anything since he made his presence known to me. Does he think he’s _enlightening_ me? Who does he think he is?

“What are you saying?”

“I mean exactly what I say. Or would searching around be too much trouble?”

“That’s why…!” I intend to tell him that’s why I wanted to go to Ransen in the first place, but I let my ire get the best of me and can't even speak. But I end up flattening my ears immediately when he glares at me.

“I’m just saying you should consider the possibility,” Rai says, still in a neutral and calm voice, completely unresponsive to my irritation.

“That’s just it! I _know!_  And what? You’re telling me to just go out and find it?!” I let my words spill out freely.

After a moment of silence and blinking his eyes slowly, Rai takes a deep breath and approaches my bed again, grabbing my scruff once more. Even faster than before, my body submits to the touch, relaxing in an instant. It still feels stifling but it's oddly comforting as well.

“You really are a stupid cat.” He says it with affection rather than irritation, and his words sink into my ears strangely because of how little control I have over my body right now. “I said I would come with you. You agreed. So that’s why we’re here. Now you’re here. Why would I want to throw you out on your own now?” 

“You’re saying you’re willing to help me look for a way to break the curse?” I whisper, much softer than my earlier tone.

“Obviously.”

“Why?”

“You’re a Sanga. I told you I’d train you, remember?”

His words again sink in deep to my ears, ruffling the fur. He _wants_ me. I’m _his_ Sanga.

“And when I help break the curse, you’ll have no complaints, right?” 

I remember this clearly—he said “ _when_ ,” not “if.” He has so much confidence in his abilities—this haughty cat—but he is very strong. I’ve seen him fight. Not just bodily strength, but he refuses to lose his cool in the midst of a heated situation. He is incredibly hard to resist. Even if he is hard to read at times, I’d forgotten how much I needed his support—the first support I got from any other cat. 

“What?” He asks directly, tilting up my face to meet his pale blue gaze. I’m still surprised that he would be willing to even come near me, much less touch me.

“It’s just weird. Most cats wouldn’t want to be anywhere around a cursed cat like me.”

“That’s normal. People want to be accepted by others and feel like part of the group. Things they don’t understand frightens them or makes them feel different, and they fear rejection.”

I can’t say anything about this. He has a point.

“So. Anything else?” He asks.

“N-no. Thank you,” I whisper quietly.

“Before we continue, we’re going to need to do something about this attitude of yours.”

Despite being in his grip, my ears flatten when I hear his tone. There seems to be something slightly off once more about this memory. He is rewriting it now, I’m sure.

“Attitude?” I ask—my voice still soft.

“Your attitude. Don’t you remember my ground rules?”

“I don’t think you specified…”

“I think I _did_. Didn’t I say that if you agreed to come with me, you would submit to my rules?”

He did say that. I don’t argue, but I don’t agree either.

“Do you wish to remain by my side?”

“Yes.” This single word is spoken without hesitation. 

“Then let me suggest not biting the hand that feeds you.” I raise my eyes again—and I notice the claw mark on his face.

“I-i’m s-sorry,” I say. “I d-didn’t mean—”

“Unfortunately, it’s not your _intentions_ that matter to me but your _actions_. I asked to see your wound in order to provide for your care. You not only refused but lashed out at me. What do you think you ought to do to make up for this?” 

“M-my w-wound is r-right on m-my upper arm,” I stammer, still soft and quiet. I’m frustrated that I can’t make my voice any louder. “Y-you c-can see it now. I-i w-was afraid y-you l-leave me when you s-saw I have been c-cursed!”

“Well, I haven’t.” Rai traces the wound on my upper arm with his fingers. “If this is all it is, you should be fine.” I heave a soft sigh of relief. “What are you going to do to make up for lashing out at me?” 

“I-i’m s-sorry?” I ask, hoping that will be enough. 

He doesn’t reply, but I can feel his gaze weighing down on me heavily. When I glance up again, looking at him through my lashes, I see his pupil dilate for just a second. He looks displeased.

“I-i c-can s-see to your wound?” I ask.

“Hmph. That’s a start.” Rai takes a seat on my bed and moves me into his lap. It isn’t till my legs are straddling his thighs that he removes his hand from the scruff of my neck. He keeps it right at my nape, however, caressing the skin softly. It feels threatening, however—reminding me he could easily scruff me again. The other hand traces along my side and up under my arm—and I realize I am sitting here on his lap in only my trousers. Even my feet are bare, and I feel quite vulnerable.

What do I do? I figure I will treat that scratch just like any other—and I as lean up to lick his cheek, I notice my ass is actually still sore—and my tail twitches when I remember that it wasn’t more than a few hours ago that he spanked me out there in the woods. A small tingling sensation rushes down my spine—and to my shock, I feel arousal building in my waist. The hand at the side of my waist moves around behind me, dropping a little lower to the base of my tail.

I try to concentrate, breathing deeply, and slowly and gently I stick out my tongue to gently lick away the blood from his cheek. It fills my mouth with a familiar taste of iron—but it’s different than licking my own wounds. This feels much more intimate, and his eye is glued on my every move.

Dropping my gaze so I don’t get distracted, I continue licking his cheek, slowly and gently—so as not to hurt him.

“Your tongue is much smoother than mine,” he says softly. I can taste his breath when he speaks because his face is so close to mine. It tastes oddly sweet—a familiar taste—and the puff of air that comes out of his mouth incites my purr. He strokes the fur on my tail. It feels nice.

When cats groom themselves or each other, it’s common to purr while doing so—and now, I find myself in the rather embarrassing position of sitting face-to-face on the lap of this incredibly handsome and powerful cat, grooming him and purring loudly, missing more than half my clothes. Of course, it would be natural to feel somewhat aroused, wouldn't it?

My body is pulled a little bit closer, and while I am licking his cheek, he turns his face suddenly to capture my mouth with his lips. The sudden touch startles me—I’m shocked at how warm he is—he’s _hot_ —and I’m so surprised that I don’t remember to pull away. I simply invade his mouth, stroking his tongue with my own. 

A soft sigh escapes—my gods, was that me? I feel myself being pulled in even closer. Both his hands move down toward my ass, and I wince softly.

“Are you still sore, kitten?” He whispers as soon as he pulls his lips away.

A hot red blush fills my ears and floods my cheeks. I can’t reply audibly, but I nod my head. He _spanked_ me! Earlier today in the woods—he stripped off my pants and _spanked_ me! I honestly cannot remember anyone ever doing that to me before, and for it to happen now, with this stranger... I'm mortified. As though to establish his dominance over me—as though he needed to do such a thing—and in order to get me to comply and obey. My heart is thumping loudly in my chest.

“You _didn’t_ dislike it, did you?” He whispers softly into my ear, and his tongue slips in behind his soft words, licking the white downy fur carefully. It’s loud—and it tickles, sort of—and I scrunch up my shoulder but do not pull away. I think… I think it feels good.

“Your reaction surprised me. I thought you’d resist more—and sure enough, you have; only you waited till this evening.”  
  
I tilt up my face to look at his expression. Is that a threat? If it is, it’s very soft and gentle. He’s wearing just a tiny bit of a smile. He hardly sounds displeased or disappointed.

“You didn’t answer my question. I asked if it was possible you didn’t dislike this afternoon’s discipline in the forest.” 

“I _didn’t_ like it,” I protest softly. “It _hurt_ me.”

“So you say. However, even when I touch you now—hours later—you don’t seem to remember it with anger or resentment.” In order to make his point, he cups my ass in both his hands, caressing me roughly in doing so. 

It certainly _doesn’t_ fill me with anger or resentment. This is another feeling all together. It feels almost reverent—and my hips are flooded with desire. My heart skips a beat in my throat and my breath hitches when I realize how much desire I feel. It’s shocking. And incredibly embarrassing. Do I want to please him so much that I am willing to suffer that sort of humiliation? I don't understand my feelings at all!

“Hmph.” Another slightly arrogant hum comes from the cat below me. He speaks softly into my ear after nipping the tip. “I think you’ve satisfied me. I don’t know what I’ll do if you start to enjoy your discipline sessions, however.” His lips are curved up in a wicked-feeling smile, sending another shiver down my back. “You ought to be careful, kitten.” 

With those words, the room starts to fade into darkness. When I open my eyes, I find myself sitting on the demon’s lap, facing him—naked with those heavy cuffs and that collar. And the desire I felt in that memory is still ever present.

“Do you understand?” He whispers softly.

I swallow and nod my head, though I’m not exactly sure what he wants from me. He wants me to _enjoy_ his discipline?  
  
“You don’t have to concern yourself about anything—except trust that I know what is best for you now—just as you always have.” 

Something rings slightly false in that statement, but still—it feels so good to hear it that I want to believe it with all my heart. He disciplines me because he cares for me and wants what is best. It's my job to submit.

I nod my head, and I open my eyes. I am hoping to find those incredibly cute ears poking up from his head, and I want to lick them so terribly much. I feel tears sting my eyes when I am disappointed, but I reach out for the horns instead, running my fingers around them gently. They feel strong and powerful. 

“You’re trembling,” he whispers. His hands are still cupping my ass. His claws come out just for a moment and graze my skin just lightly. Another shiver goes down my spine and my tail bristles, waving back and forth almost wantonly. 

I tilt my head up and lick his horns, running my fingers through silky strands of hair. So much—I want to feel small, white rounded ears underneath my tongue, but even when I close my eyes I can’t remember what they felt like. 

My throat is suddenly nipped—licked and then bitten—and his fangs sink into the soft flesh between my neck and my shoulder. I gasp softly but I do not protest. I simply allow this bite. I can tell he is drinking my blood again, and I continue to groom his hair and those horns, moving my claws slowly and gently, careful not to move my neck or shoulder, since I know that will make the bite hurt much worse. 

I start to feel slightly light-headed—and a rush of sudden wicked pleasure courses through my body from the wound at my neck, making me stiffen in surprise. What _is_ this? That smoky aura around his body seems to be flowing through me again from the bite. His hands brush lightly over my entrance, which is spread and vulnerable on his lap, especially when he parts his thighs a bit wider, and his fingers suddenly invade my depths. A small burst of pain—laced with anticipation and a hint of pleasure—shoots through my chest. I feel a claw drawing inside of me—and I squirm, trying to escape—but a second burst of that strange, almost painful lust floods me—now from both ends.

I growl softly—both trying to escape and submit at the same time—but I _enjoy_ this feeling. It feels nice. I _want_ to submit—I want to _please_ him—I want him to hurt me. The thoughts running through my head—that my suffering might give him pleasure—are overwhelming. 

I am expecting him to fuck me—but instead, he tilts his face up from the bite at my neck and peers down at me with that powerful and invisible gaze.

“You are making the adjustment quite well. You please me.”  
  
And those softly spoken words melt my heart and relax my body—as though they are a light in a the darkness, or a hand reaching out to me in my worst hour of need.

 


	10. The Final Transition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conclusion of this wickedly dark fiction.
> 
> Konoe decides for himself that he cannot fulfill his promise to Rai. Instead--he chooses a life together with him.
> 
> Triggers: Abandonment play, non-con restraint, dub-con sex.

The next block of time passes relatively uneventfully until Rai comes into my room to bring me elsewhere.

“You need to trust me,” he says softly, pulling me off my knees to my feet. “Come.” 

My fur bristles a little when he says this, but I am nervous.

“I _do_ trust you, Rai,” I whisper quietly. What is this about?

“Good. Then this final step should be no problem.”

Final step? I wonder, but I keep my mouth closed.

I’m led into another mostly empty room, and he leads me over to the wall. There are several iron hooks attached to the wall and ceiling, and he lifts my arms overhead, attaching my wrists to the hooks in the ceiling. This leaves me stretched out tall and on my tiptoes, my arms directly over my head.

I feel incredibly vulnerable, and I worry about what he has planned for me. Of course, he doesn’t leave me alone—not at first. Instead, he spends a little time caressing my body—which I find incredibly arousing. When he is tender with me—without any intention to punish or discipline—that is my favorite activity. I crave it, and my body responds instantly and hopefully to his touch. But he’s being almost casual about it today, which has me a little worried.

“Kitten.” My chin is caressed gently and nudged a little. I meet that blind gaze of his, looking closely at his eyes. I can’t help feeling a little pain every time I see that new scar over his left eye. Though he isn’t wearing his eyepatch anymore. I’d like to reach out and touch his face, but with my arms restrained, I can’t. “Your purpose is to please me. It would please me for you to remain here and wait for me.”

Nodding my head, I drop my gaze to my feet. It’s very dim in this room—almost no light at all. I wonder how long he wants me to wait? However, my claustrophobia doesn’t kick in till after he kisses my lips gently and leaves. He closes the door behind him, leaving me in the near darkness, and it feels like the walls are closing in around me.

I take a few deep breaths to calm myself, and I shift around in my restraints. I don’t have much movement, and my shoulders are already tired. The tips of my toes are touching the floor, and I try to relax, making myself a little longer so I don’t swing in the restraints and to take the pressure off my shoulders, but it’s too tight. 

Again, there is no way to deem how much time goes by while I’m alone in this room. The light doesn’t change, and I can’t really tell when my eyes become used to the light—since there is nothing in here besides me and my restraints. I can see my tail when I bring it in front of my body, but the floor, the walls, and ceiling are all dim and dark, with colors shifting from red to green to yellow.

The only method I have to tell time is to count the pulse throbbing in my ears. It’s deathly quiet in here. I relax my body, trying to make my shoulders pop—and they do—painfully. I let out a quiet squeak in response, but it feels like the balls of my feet are touching more of the floor now, rather than just brushing the surface with my toes.

My arms start aching, and then my shoulders and my back. Will he be gone for a long time? I start to worry that he might have simply left me here—but then I realize, no, he told me for him to trust me. I’m trying to do that, but fear has wrapped itself around my heart, and I worry just the same. Will he forget me? Doesn't he need me? Doesn't he want me?

My mind is brought back to that time we were looking for information on Leaks in the library. I found that book about the head Sanga of Ransen—the one who could enchant demons and around whose feet flowers bloomed wherever he walked. I remember Rai’s words from back then.

“I would love to pair with a Sanga like him.”

The same feelings of insecurity and despair come over me now—what if he finds someone who is more competent than me? He didn’t back then, of course—and I remember his words at the inn the night before our confrontation with Leaks.

“Without your song, it’s pointless. Without you, it’s pointless.” 

It was at that moment that I realized I _loved_ Rai. I still love him, even as he is now—and remembering those words makes my eyes burn with tears. I also realized he loved me then—and that is why I am here now. He _desires_ me. He wants to keep me by his side. Even if I'm now alone in this dark room.

As far as I know, we are the last survivors of Sisa—and I don’t even know if I am still a cat. With all he has been doing to me—sharing that dark power of his—perhaps I too have become a devil or whatever a devil's servant is. Now that my eyes have become used to the darkness, I can see that strange snake tattoo on my left ankle. I _belong_ to him—and he wants and desires my total submission. 

Part of me wants to please him more than I want to live. And that part scares me—it frightens the cat who still thinks of himself as Rai’s Sanga, Konoe from Karou. But in my heart and soul, I know that isn’t who I am anymore. I am what the demon desires. He has shaped me—my will, my memories, my body—into what he desires: his servant.

I’ve even—to my dismay—started to enjoy the punishments he inflicts on me. Any touch from him whatsoever is pleasurable, even if it’s painful. I love when he lavishes attention on my body. He can easily work me up into a frenzy with the belt or the cane. He enjoys watching me suffer—and I feel beautiful when I suffer for his sake. And so, being alone in here, even if it’s what he wants, is incredibly painful and lonely.

I’d rather suffer a beating than be alone like this.

My shoulders pop again suddenly, painfully. I’m very tired and I want to see him. I’m tempted to call out for him or sing for him—hoping he will come to me. But I manage to hang on a little longer. Time passes slowly, but I'm still here.

Nothing changes. So I look inside myself and pull out my song. It’s that dark, submissive song that I sing for him—and the light coming from my body is a dark red light, shimmering and glittering in the room. It’s filled with loneliness and sorrow—and it sounds like tears and longing.

But I can’t help myself. I am singing—to Rai—begging him to come back for me. I continue my song as long as I am able until my body is exhausted, and that leaves me hanging from the restraints on the ceiling. My body is so heavy—and I sob quietly, in despair, for having been left alone with my thoughts and my grief and my loneliness. 

As I am recovering my strength and ability to move, I realize I don’t _ever_ want to be apart from him. Even if it’s what he wants from me, I don’t want it. I’d rather suffer a whipping—even with that cane—if it would keep me in his presence.

I realize I am weeping now—for what? For loneliness?

“Please!” I call again. “Rai—please!”

There is no response.

“I will do anything! Please, Rai!”

Still—nothing but suffocating silence surrounds me in the dark room. I have no idea how much time has passed. The mark on my ankle burns like a brand. I feel something inside my body shifting—it feels a little like just before I sing. But this is different. This is… submission.

I quiet my thoughts, my voice, my body. I simply wait. I can’t tell how much time has passed, but it feels like an eternity. I don’t feel patient. I feel desperate. My body feels desperate. But in the dark, restrained like this—I can’t help myself. I just want him. He is what brings me satisfaction—in any shape or form.

And hasn’t it always been like this?

The quiet of the room starts to feel even heavier, making my body more relaxed. I’ve submitted to the darkness, to the loneliness, to the isolation.

It crosses my mind that this is what I would feel like if I had managed to kill Rai before he turned into a devil. I would feel… just like this. Alone. Despair. Grief.

My precious Touga. 

I realize that I have done Rai a disservice. I failed him when I was unable to kill him. And as my thoughts veer off in this direction, the door to this dim room finally opens. Rai has returned—and he has brought his dagger.

My ears flatten when I see it. Is he going to kill me? I deserve to die for my failure to keep that promise.

But instead, my right arm is released from the restraints above my head, and to my surprise, Rai pushes the dagger into my hand.

“Little Sanga. Your promise.”

I look up at his face—and he is definitely watching me. He looks oddly at peace.

“Fulfill the promise you made.”

To help me, Rai lifts up the hand holding his dagger, aiming right as his breast.

_—Pierce me through—here—when I am no longer myself.—_

Those words—they echo in my head.

_—I believe you. Because you are my Sanga.—_

Does he really want me to kill him? I am shocked—horrified—because I realize I cannot do what I promised. Tears spill down my face and a small sob escapes my lips.

“Crying won’t help you fulfill your promise,” his voice whispers softly. “Come. This is something only you can do.”

I am staring at his chest—still marked with the same tattoo that I have. I wonder—did he become like this, turn into a devil, because of my curse? Did I _make_ him like this? Didn’t the shaman warn me? Didn’t Leaks? Where these is light, there must be shadow. The one closest to my heart would suffer the same fate as me.

But here—I am no longer the light. I’m no longer fully Ribika. I know this in my heart. More than anything, I want to _stay_ here—with him—for eternity. I can’t fulfill my promise. Not now. Not ever! I don't care about the consequences. I just can't do it!

“Kitten,” he urges me.

“Rai… I can’t!” I burst out through the tears streaming down my face. “Please—forgive me! Punish me for the rest of my lifetime if you desire—just… I can’t do it.”

I feel his hands brushing my ears gently, tenderly—just like he always has—or at least, how I remember he always has. The dagger remains touching the skin over his heart.

“Konoe.”

I look up at his face again, and he tilts my chin to keep my eyes on him.

“Even if I cause you a lifetime of despair, pain, and suffering?” Rai murmurs, his hand moving to cover mine.

“I’m sorry. I’ve betrayed you. I’ve betrayed our promise. But… I can’t do this. Please! Don't ask me to do this!”

“Stupid cat. I’ll haunt you till the end of time. Your life will be filled with pain and grief,” Rai whispers. It almost sounds more like a sweet sexy promise than a threat.

“Even so… I want to be with you _forever_. Please. Let me stay here with you. I want to be like you.” I can’t hold back my tears, and they stain my cheeks.

Rai licks them from my face, returning my gaze with his invisible one.

Brushing the tip of the dagger lightly across his chest, I watch as a thin, delicate line appears in its wake. And then, I lean forward and lick the blood that is leaking from his chest. I want to be like him. I want to stay here. I can feel his blood's power flowing through my body. It makes me sweat, it makes me desire him. It fills my lower half with blood.

A low rumbling growl comes from the demon I’m tending, but he doesn’t make any move to stop me. However, he grabs the hand holding the dagger and shakes it, making me lose my grip. It falls to the floor—and even on the slightly squishy surface, it rings out with a clear hollow sound. My free hand is grabbed and restrained once more, and Rai turns me around to face the wall, continuing that low, purring growl. He nips the tip of my ears, and I feel like I might melt. Lust is overpowering me.

His black tail sweeps around the front of my hips, and it wraps itself around my dick, squeezing me. It feels so good—so powerful—until the tip of his tail pushes its way inside me. The sensation is painful, but when he licks me—and the more he licks me—I feel pleasure. I can barely breathe and am panting wildly.

He lifts up my thighs from behind and enters me in a single thrust—and it’s painful, too. But it’s a sweet pain—his _attention_ , his rough manner of loving my body—it feels so good. I cry out—in both pain and pleasure—and relax myself as best as I can.

He is breathing raggedly behind me, the soft breaths falling directly into my ear—and he is thrusting up inside me—dragging himself across that sensitive spot. The tail around and in my dick tightens, making it impossible for me to release. 

“Rai…” I gasp.

But he keeps pounding into me—harder, rougher, like he will fuck me to death. And the pleasure I feel is falling—deeper and deeper into darkness, into sin, into depravity… and still, I cannot release!

But even so… there is nowhere I would rather be than right here. With him. At his side. As his slave. As his toy. I don’t care—as long as we can be together.

My nape is bitten and I can feel him growling as he licks the blood dripping down my back. I want this! I want to nourish him, I want to become his everything, just as he is mine.

“Please…” I whisper. But I’m not really begging for release. I’m letting him do whatever he likes to me. And I am _loving_ it. Never once does it cross my mind that I haven’t always been this cat—that this version of me is easily as different as this version of Rai. I want… him. I want to be _like_ him.

My suspended pleasure quickly becomes overwhelming and painful, yet even that pain melts into pleasure. I want him to touch me like this—I want him to _use_ me. I want to soothe him. Anything… to make up for my failure to meet my end of the promise.

I simply allow it—I don’t resist—and I feel every drop of pleasure zooming around inside my body, even as it feels I am so full I’m about to burst. I even stop begging—instead, I simply call his name.

And then—my song appears.

The glow surrounding my body isn’t gold anymore. It isn’t that soft warm light. This is a deep red darkness that seems to absorb everything around it—my body vibrates and my skin hums, my fur stands on end. I hear him gasp in pleasure when the sound sinks into his ears and into his heart—if he still has one. 

The song says simply, _I am yours. Do with me what you will. Only… keep me by your side._  

It isn’t long before I hear him approaching his climax—his breath growing more and more wild—and he calls my name in my ear, gently, softly, sweetly…

“Konoe…”

And he releases inside me with a soft stutter, riding out his pleasure, slowing down those violent thrusts. At the same time, his tail slips out of me and pulses around my dick—and I am soon crying out loud in pleasure—tears spilling down my face. His claws are drawn and marking up the skin on my thighs—and my feet are still not touching the floor. He’s holding me tightly in his arms.

The release is a sweeter pleasure than I could ever imagine. When I finish—my mind is numb, my body is brimming with relaxation, fulfillment, and something like satisfaction and belonging. He releases my hands from the restraints above my head.

He turns me over in his arms, cradling me as though I am something special, something precious. I never want to leave him.

“Rai…”

He looks down at me with that non-existent gaze.

“I love you,” I confess softly. He starts walking out of this room and back down the hallway.

“I know.”

And so begins my new life—with my lover—as his devil servant and slave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap. So go play the lottery, dear readers! It's finished. :)


End file.
